NovelEnglishChapter 822
It didn't take long.
Margot was back on the cold bench, and Janie dutifully slipped off her shoes.
There it was on her right foot-a bright red birthmark, identical to the one on Teresa's sole.
The man stood nearby, arms crossed, his tall figure casting an unsettling shadow over Margot.
Janie studied his expression, trying to glean sinsight from his demeanor.
"Mr. Winston, do you think we should run a DNA test between her and Marguerite? Just to be sure."
Maurice didn't reply. He just leaned slightly forward, scrutinizing the seemingly calm child in front of him, not
uttering a word for what felt like an eternity.
His predatory gaze made Margot's heart race, but she held her composure, masking her fear.
She knew that playing dumb was her best defense, the strategy that had kept her safe these past months.
She looked up at him with wide eyes and asked, "Uncle, what's a DNA test?"
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtMaurice chuckled softly, leaning in closer. His voice was barely a whisper, chilling and detached.
"If you're going to act like a fool, make sure | never see through it. Even if it's just an act, keep it up indefinitely."
Margot froze, unable to meet his eyes.
Fear and dread had long betrayed her, and the fortress she'd built in her heart crumbled to dust.
Like a startled bird, she trembled, knowing that once the facade was pierced, her charade would be useless.
"Kids shouldn't meddle in adult affairs or speak out of turn, right?"
Margot knew exactly what Maurice meant.
If she told her mom everything about the past six months with her dad, she wouldn't be the only one in danger-
her dad would be in peril too.
She still remembered the two gunshots Maurice had fired-one for her dad, one for her.
Those were her most terrifying memories, ones she never wanted to experience again.
So, she swallowed her tears and nodded in agreement.
Maurice seemed satisfied, picking up a cotton swab soaked in antiseptic to gently dab at the cut on Margot's
forehead.
But that wasn't her real wound. The real one was in her chest, a hundred, no, a thousand times worse.
It was inflicted by the man she'd once thought of as her dad, with a gun in his hand.
And yet, Maurice's touch was gentle, his eyes harsh.
His slow, deliberate demeanor made it clear he felt he had Margot's fate in his grasp once more.
Once he finished, Maurice discarded the swab and said, "Teresa should be heading to school now, right? Make
sure she gets there."
"Yes, sir."
Two bodyguards stepped in, escorting Margot out of the room.
Janie had been watching Maurice closely, noting his calm and composed demeanor, the confidence that radiated
from him.
Unable to hold back, she asked, "Mr. Winston, aren't you worried that letting her go means she'll tell Frederick?"
Maurice shot back, "Tell him what? That | once fired a gun? Or that | just held her here?"
Janie paused, understanding dawning on her.
"Right, if she were going to talk about the shootout, she would've done it already. And if she hasn't mentioned
that, she won't talk about this either.
But Mr. Winston, after all this time, Frederick still hasn't remembered anything?"
Maurice stood, a sly smile playing on his lips as he looked at her with a knowing glint in his eye. "You really
underestimate me."
word
word
mmMwWLIII0fiflo&1
mmMwWLIII0fiflo&1
mmMwWLHI0RAO&1
mmMwWLIII0fiflo&1
mmMwWL1i10f1ifl0&1
mmMwWLIiI0fiflO&1
Visit our social media platform to read fascinating stories every day and connect with the community!
