Bride Behind The Mask

Chapter 10

“Yuna is getting hitched, but what’s that got to do with me? Do I even share any mutual friends with Yuna?” Marguerite pondered, then a thought

struck her.

Could Yuna’s fiancé be Hanley? That greasy, pudgy guy! You gotta admit, Yuna and Hanley are a match made in heaven. They are both trash!

At that thought, Marguerite chuckled softly, looking at Yuna with amusement, “Sorry, I got zero interest in your love life.” RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only

Yuna had put in so much effort to get a rise out of Marguerite, but Marguerite wasn’t taking the bait. It was like Yuna was shooting herself in the foot. She ground her teeth in frustration, nearly bursting with anger, “Marguerite, let me tell you, my husband is…”

“Yuna!” Marguerite cut her off sharply, “You’re engaged, not married. You sure the end game will play out like you planned?”

Yuna was left speechless, her mind a blank canvas.

“If I were you, I’d stick with him till the end. Not like you, flaunting around before anything’s set in stone. If things don’t work out, you will be embarrassing yourself.”

Yuna failed to achieve her goal, and her hatred for Marguerite grew. But she took Marguerite’s words to heart.

Frederick had indeed proposed, but something or someone had messed up the final step, leaving her in a state of limbo.

A day had passed, and Frederick hadn’t reached out to her. She didn’t have his number, so if he backed out, she wouldn’t know where to find him.

She had to get her dad to find out Frederick’s company address, and get some answers.

Yuna snapped back to reality, shooting Marguerite a cold glare, and threatened arrogantly, “Marguerite, this isn’t over. Just you wait. When I marry into a rich family, I’ll have you kissing my feet.”

“Sure, I’ll wait,” Marguerite replied with a smirk. Her eyes filled with disdain for Yuna.

Smart people never let others see their cards. And to Marguerite, Yuna, who flaunted at every opportunity, was nothing more than a joke.

Meanwhile, in the office of the President of the Winston Group.

Frederick sat in his plush chair, eyes half–closed, twirling a scent strip under his nose. His brow furrowed, his face darkening!

“Can’t you still smell anything?” asked a handsome young man with delicate features, worry lining his face.

Frederick crumpled the scent strip and tossed it on the floor with a grunt, “Hmm.”

The man, Robert Fitzgerald, was Frederick’s psychiatrist. Three years ago, Frederick had lost his sense of smell in a car accident. He’d had numerous secret check–ups abroad, but no cause was found. His doctors suggested it could be psychological, so he brought in Robert for therapy. However, even after three years, his condition hadn’t improved.

Robert sighed softly, turned on some calming piano music, and started probing Frederick, “Have there been any recent events that have stuck with you? If you think about it, you might realize that you could

actually smell something during those events. But because you’re so used to not having a sense of smell, you overlooked it.”

Frederick closed his eyes, thinking back on recent events. He remembered a ridiculous night where he seemed to have caught a faint scent. It was a subtle fragrance that was easy to miss, but thinking back, that scent seemed to linger at the tip of his nose, touching a chord in his heart.

“I think…”

Frederick’s sentence was cut off as someone knocked on the glass door, interrupting his therapy session. He immediately opened his eyes, his previously calm face reverting to its usual impassiveness.

His assistant, Chuck, walked in, followed by another assistant carrying a tray of perfume samples.

Their group’s perfume company, LuxeScents International, had recently held a large–scale perfume design competition. The perfumes on the tray were the finalists, selected from tens of thousands of entries.

“Mr. Winston, the initial selection of the perfume design competition has ended. These are the finalists. Please review them,” Chuck gave a nod to the assistant, who set the tray down on the coffee table.

Ever since Frederick lost his sense of smell, the task of testing scents had been handed over to Robert, who had grown up with Frederick and shared a similar taste with him. Without a word from Frederick, Robert stepped forward, dipped the test strip into the liquid, and began making his selection.

The perfumes were close to Frederick. He glanced at them and immediately picked out a special colored perfume from the bunch.

In the perfume industry, colored perfume was nothing new. But this light green, shimmering perfume caught Frederick’s attention. He had never seen a perfume of this color before.

Frederick leaned in to smell the bottle and was stunned. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at Chuck in disbelief, “I don’t recall a green perfume being in the competition. Where did this come from?”

Chuck glanced at the bottle, realizing his mistake. He broke into a cold sweat and quickly explained, “I’m sorry, Mr. Winston. I made a mistake. This perfume missed the submission deadline. When it was delivered, the initial selection had already ended. When we went to retrieve the finalists, the staff was clearing out the rejected entries. It must’ve gotten mixed up in the rush, I’ll take care of it right away.”

However, Frederick was gripping the bottle tightly, his thumb rubbing over and over the mouth of the bottle, “Does this perfume have a name?”

Chuck paused. Mr. Winston was interested in this perfume? But it didn’t seem like he had even smelled it! Although filled with questions, Chuck quickly racked his brain. He remembered that when the perfume was sent, it came with a design concept. After a moment of thought, he immediately answered, “Mr. Winston, this perfume is called Polar Radiance.”

“Polar Radiance?” Holding the perfume named Polar Radiance, there seemed to be something slowly awakening in Frederick’s nostrils.

His suddenly focused eyes were shining sharply. Looking at Chuck, he said urgently, “Find the person who made this. I need to see this person immediately!”

Stonebridge Memorial Hospital.