Bride Behind the Mask novel Chapter 809

He gently traced his fingers over the burn scar on his cheek, letting them linger behind his ear as if searching for something, all the while looking at Marguerite with a hopeful glint in his eyes.

Marguerite knew her words had hurt him, but she couldn't predict what this man would do next.

Silas had completely thrown her life off balance, and every unexpected move he made left Marguerite scrambling to keep up.

She couldn't let things spiral further out of control.

Marguerite yanked Silas up from the couch, mercilessly pushing him toward the front door.

"Don't waste your time. No matter what you do, I won't fall for you."

The door was already open, yet Silas stood his ground. "Marguerite, are you not going to give me even the slightest chance?"

Seeing this towering man with such a humble demeanor tugged at Marguerite's heartstrings.

They engaged in a silent standoff for what felt like ages before she spoke softly:

"Violet is a good woman. She doesn't deserve to be let down. So, please, just let me go."

Silas froze for a moment, his gaze fixed steadily on her.

Marguerite couldn't tell what he was thinking, but his eyes were a storm of emotions, pinning her with their intensity.

Then, he grasped her shoulders, his breath coming in warm waves against her face.

"Marguerite, it's I who should ask you to let me go. My life was calm and predictable, with no upheavals. Without you, I'd marry Violet, raise little Margot, watch her grow up, and see her start a family. I could live without love, but then I met you.

From the moment I saw you, my mind has been in turmoil. I tried to stay away, but the more I did, the stronger my curiosity grew. You're right; you can't fall for someone in three days, but I did. Does that make my feelings worthless?

Marguerite, in these past few days, I've taken more painkillers than when I was injured, even knowing they're no good, just because I wanted to see you. So, who is really holding whom captive here?"

His voice was rough but clear, each word striking Marguerite like a bell.

His raw and unwavering confession brought a sting to her eyes, blurring her vision with tears.