Bride Behind The Mask (Frederick and Marguerite)

Chapter 567



Chapter 567

Manley was a mess, sobbing so hard he could barely catch his breath. His face was a blend of tears

and snot, a picture of utter distress.

Frederick pulled out a tissue and stepped forward to clean Manley’s face, casting a glance at Yuna. His

gaze softened as he looked back at Manley, “Manley, let’s talk this out, buddy. No lying, okay?”

Manley shook his head like a tambourine, his eyes wide with fear as tears continued to stream down

his face, “Daddy, I’m not lying! Auntie Marguerite… she hit me again last night! I didn’t sleep a wink!

Waaah-”

“Did you hear that, Freddie? Manley said Auntie Marguerite hit him. How can you keep defending her?

He’s my kid, how can I stand by while he’s being bullied?”

But the look Frederick gave Yuna was one of growing disgust, “He’s my son, and of course, it breaks

my heart to see him like this. But I will not tolerate you, filling his head with nonsense!”

Yuna was consumed with guilt. Freddie hadn’t believed her yesterday, so she had no choice but to

resort to desperate measures! Not only did she up the dose of the medication, but she also had the

heart to lay a heavy hand on Manley!

Yet after all this, why was Freddie still shielding Marguerite?

Marguerite, on the other hand, was taken aback. Naturally, she was heartbroken and anxious about

Manley’s condition. But she never imagined Frederick would actually trust her this much.

Unexpectedly, she thought back to what Miley had said to her yesterday.

Could it be that Frederick actually loved her, and he just didn’t realize it himself?

Marguerite’s heart was in turmoil, a tangled mess. Unsure of how to clear her name, she chose to

remain silent.

But Yuna couldn’t keep her composure. With a howl, she burst into tears, her display as dramatic as it

was intense, “It’s so unfair, Freddie! If it’s as you say, that Manley’s accusations against Auntie

Marguerite are the result of my influence, then after your warning yesterday morning, I would never

have continued! But Manley still says the same things today. That proves I wasn’t fabricating anything!

It must be… it must be because Marguerite thinks you haven’t caught on to her hitting Manley, so she’s

grown bold!”

Yuna’s words were inflammatory, and some of the servants who didn’t know better started giving Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

Marguerite suspicious looks.

But Frederick maintained an intense gaze with Yuna, his eyes probing, sharp enough to pierce through

one’s soul.

Yuna, already lying, felt even more quilty under his scrutiny.

So she quickly lowered her eyelids, and her dried-up tear ducts managed to squeeze out more tears.

She hugged Manley tighter, crying and whimpering.

But at that moment, Manley screamed, “Mommy, don’t hold me! It hurts… it hurts so

much…”

Yuna’s eyes flew open in an exaggerated motion, and she quickly placed Manley on his toddler bed,

swiftly rolling up his sleeve as if she had done it a thousand times before.

Instantly, bruises in shades of blue and purple covered his little arms. Without a second thought, she

lifted his shirt, revealing more bruises on his stomach and back, just as

severe.

Frederick’s eyes narrowed, and Yuna, with bloodshot eyes, demanded, “What happened? How did you

get these injuries?”

With Yuna’s questioning, Manley’s grievances surged like a tide, “Auntie Marguerite did it… she’s the

one who hit me! Daddy, Mommy, it hurts so much! It really does!”

Yuna’s eyes filled with hate as she mustered the courage to glare back at Frederick, “Freddie, the proof

is right before your eyes. Are you still going to insist that Manley’s just having nightmares? Look at this!

Can these injuries really come out of nowhere?”

Frederick stepped forward, his heart aching as he gathered Manley into his arms, asking softly,

“Manley, tell Daddy how you got these wounds. Did you fall or bump into something by accident, and

you just don’t remember?”

At this point, Frederick still didn’t believe that Marguerite could be capable of such cruelty.

But before Manley could respond, a servant approached timidly, his voice barely audible, “Mr. Winston,

when I came to bring Manley his milk last night, I saw Ms. Marguerite lingering at the door. She said

she was there to drop off a toy, but when I went into the room, I found…”


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