NovelEnglishChapter 799
"Beauty marks?" Marguerite exclaimed, her brows raised in surprise. "You have a beauty mark too? But | swear |
saw a scar!"
"Oh, that. | had it lasered off," the man replied nonchalantly, seemingly unfazed by her reaction. He couldn't
comprehend why Marguerite was making such a big deal out of it.
Marguerite stood rooted to the spot, her gaze fixed on him, but he had already gotten up and was heading
towards the kitchen. "I just whipped up sdinner. Have a bite before you go."
Following him into the kitchen, Marguerite found her emotions in turmoil.
If his eyes reminded her of Frederick, she could chalk it up to coincidence.
But how could she explain the precise match of the beauty mark?
Soon, the unique aroma of beef stew with potatoes wafted through the kitchen. Marguerite's stomach growled
with hunger, yet she was too preoccupied to care, pressing on, "Why would you remove your beauty mark?"
Silas ladled the stew into a clear, large bowl and placed it on the dining table over a damp cloth to avoid
scorching the surface.
"My daughter didn't like it."
His daughter didn't like it?
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtDid Margot actually dislike the beauty mark near Silas's eye?
What a bizarre reason!
Marguerite wanted to delve deeper, but Silas had already ushered her to a seat and placed a steaming bowl of
white rice beside her, slightly annoyed by her barrage of questions.
"Why all the questions?" he asked.
Marguerite looked at him squarely. "Just one last question."
Silas took a seat beside her, giving her a look that screamed, "You're really pushing your luck."
After a pause, he finally relented, "Fine, ask."
"You promised yesterday to showa picture of you before the burn. Where's the picture?"
Silas pondered for a moment. "You want to see it now?"
Marguerite nodded eagerly: "Of course."
He reached for his phone. "Sure, but giveone reason."
Marguerite noticed his gesture but found herself at a loss for words.
How could she tell him she suspected he was her husband because of his eyes?
That she wanted to use the picture to confirm her wild guess?
Just yesterday, Marguerite had merely thought Silas bore a striking resemblance to Frederick.
But upon noticing his beauty mark, or rather, its absence, she couldn't shake off a ludicrous suspicion.
Perhaps Frederick hadn't died at all!
Could the bodies found half a year ago not be Frederick and Teresa's? After all, with the bodies decomposed, who
could say for sure?
But Marguerite couldn't voice these thoughts, offering a vague response instead: "Didn't | explain why
yesterday?"
Silas, focusing on his meal, didn't even look at Marguerite. "Sorry, that reason doesn't convince me."
Disheartened and frustrated, Marguerite sulked and took a bite of her rice. "Never mind then."
Her thoughts seemed too far-fetched.
She was no longer fixated on whether Frederick was alive or dead.
After all, even if he was alive, how could he have stayed away for six months without reaching out to her?
And how could he adopt a new identity to get close to her while keeping her in the dark?
So, Silas wasn't Frederick. Despite their similar looks, status, and influence, similarity didn't equate to being
identical.
Frederick never cooked, and certainly not as deliciously as this!
But it was hard to deny that Silas's beef stew with potatoes hit the spot, prompting even the picky eater
Marguerite to go for seconds.
After finishing her meal, Marguerite looked at the man intently, clinging to a sliver of hope, and asked one final
question: "Silas, do you have a keen sense of smell?"
Frederick had always suffered from anosmia, a condition that never improved. If Silas shared this trait, it might
just confirm her suspicions about his identity.
As she awaited Silas's answer, Marguerite's heart pounded with anticipation.
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