The Mocked Miss’s Hidden Crowns novel Chapter 647

Just like her mother back then. Even though she knew the research institute was dangerous, she still dove in headfirst for the sake of the country’s medical progress.

“The White Whale?” Charlotte took a sip of juice, the corners of her lips curving into a smile. “If you can find Reaver, maybe I’ll think about it.”

“Seriously?”

Donald’s eyes lit up.

Charlotte’s smile grew wider, her eyes squinting playfully. The chance to get her revenge had finally come.

...

Late at night, a black sports car sat under a tree.

Anthony leaned against the car door, wearing a simple trench coat. He looked relaxed, cigarette burning between his fingers as he watched the smoke curl up in the night air, his gaze lowered.

He only looked up when he heard footsteps.

Charlotte walked over, dressed in a white t-shirt and black jeans that made her legs look impossibly long. She was on her phone, her tone casual.

Anthony flicked away his cigarette, walked over, took her bag from her and slipped his hand into hers like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I’ll handle contacting him later.”

Charlotte slid into the car, almost automatically leaning into Anthony’s arms, settling in like that was her spot. She pulled out her phone and started tapping away.

Anthony watched her for a second but didn’t interrupt. He just grabbed a piece of candy, popped it in her mouth, and let his hand rest on her waist. His eyes drifted to her phone and caught a glimpse of her chat with someone he didn’t know.

He caught a line of text and paused, studying Charlotte in his arms.

Reaver? Yet another secret.

He realized more and more that Charlotte was like a box of hidden treasures, always surprising him.

Anthony gently pinched her cheek, a strange sense of jealousy creeping in. He frowned. “So he was like your teacher. Why haven’t I ever seen you two talk?”

Charlotte leaned into his chest, her voice soft. “He’s probably off wandering the world somewhere. He always reached out to me first.”

The last time they talked was a year ago, when one of his experiments had blown up and he came to her for advice.

Anthony just hummed, then pulled her onto his lap and draped a blanket over her shoulders, his voice low and rough. “Next time, I want to meet him.”

Charlotte shrugged, settling against him. “If we get lucky.”

“Get some sleep.”

Holding Charlotte close, Anthony’s eyes grew a little darker. Her words echoed in his mind.

A weird old man in a mask...