The Mocked Miss’s Hidden Crowns novel Chapter 1826

"If you practically force me to fine you, that doesn't count as me asking!"

Charlotte smoothly pulled the needle out, capped it, and tossed it into the biohazard bin.

"Flawless logic," Newell chuckled warmly, shaking his head. His gaze drifted down to her stomach, his eyes softening. "Three months along now?"

"Yeah."

Charlotte walked back to Anthony's side, casually picking up the glass of warm water he had already prepared for her. She took two sips, set it down, and said, "I'm going to the restroom."

"Be careful," Anthony nodded, opting not to follow her this time.

The moment the girl's silhouette disappeared down the hall, the warmth vanished from Anthony's face. He turned his attention entirely to Newell, his thick brows pulling into a severe frown. "When Lottie's genetic mutation first flared up, I pulled all the classified medical records."

"Based on the degeneration speed, without a new, functioning cure, you had exactly seven months left."

"What's your point?" Newell casually picked up his teacup, swirling the amber liquid gently, a faint, mocking smile dancing in his eyes.

"As her husband, I naturally want to be the only man in my wife's heart." Anthony didn't take the bait, his voice low and steady. "But Lottie isn't an ordinary woman. Your place in her heart is just as critical as mine."

Newell had saved her life. He had forged her into the unstoppable force she was today. No matter how much time passed, Newell's existence could never be erased from her soul.

"I am absolutely certain that in seven months, when Lottie is welcoming our new babies into the world, the last thing she would want is to watch someone she deeply cares about die."

Newell's fingers tightened imperceptibly around his cup. The mocking smile completely vanished from his face.

If Lottie hadn't aggressively taken his vitals today, his failing body would have indeed given out right around the time she went into labor.

But...

He truly hadn't planned on dying. It was just that ever since her wedding, an unexplainable, crushing depression had settled over him, sapping his will to fight back against the mutation.

"You're overthinking it, Mr. Anthony." Newell finished his tea and elegantly dabbed the corner of his mouth with a napkin, his voice dropping into a cool, dismissive drawl. "I'm sticking around. I still need to be here for the day she gets utterly bored of you and kicks you to the curb."

Anthony's dark eyes narrowed slightly. He responded with a slow, deliberate smirk. "I'm afraid you're going to be waiting a lifetime for a day that will never come."

"Who knows?" Newell let out a dry, breathy laugh. "Lottie only really cares about two things in this world: money and a handsome face."

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