The Mocked Miss’s Hidden Crowns novel Chapter 91

She almost wished she’d given Shirley less money. Maybe then she wouldn’t be working so hard.

A soft knock at the door.

Anthony appeared, tall and broad-shouldered, a grey robe hanging loosely on him. His hair was still damp from the shower, making him look even more handsome, like he’d just stepped out of a magazine. He crossed the room with those long, easy strides.

“Milk,” he said.

He sat on the edge of the bed and handed Charlotte a warm glass. As she took it, his eyes flicked to her tablet, and he smiled, a little indulgent, a little amused. “Are you studying?”

Charlotte drank the milk in silence and mumbled a quiet “Yeah.”

She wasn’t sure if the problems were too hard or if she was just tired and annoyed, but her scratch paper was a mess. No calculations, just a bunch of lopsided, ugly turtles doodled all over the page.

No wonder her last test score was so bad. She probably had no idea how to solve any of these.

“Which question is giving you trouble? I can help.” Anthony grabbed a clean sheet and pointed to a problem on her screen. “This one?”

Charlotte glanced at it. Halfway through reading, she already knew the answer. Seriously? This was basic sophomore stuff. Shirley was really trying to build her foundation from scratch.

Anthony caught her silence and smiled a little, his voice low and soothing. “With this one, start by plugging in the formula. According to Newton’s second law…”

His voice drifted around her, warm and steady.

Charlotte tilted her head, watching him in the soft light. Anthony’s profile was striking, shadows and gold mixing across his sharp features. Even when he was focused, he looked effortlessly elegant.

He seemed to notice her stare. Anthony turned, his dark eyes narrowing with a teasing glint. He tapped her nose with the stylus, grinning. “Eyes on your worksheet.”

Charlotte blinked and dutifully looked away.

“So, what’s the answer?” he asked.

“Sleep early,” Anthony said, brushing a hand over her hair. He reached for the lamp, but before he could switch it off, she caught his wrist.

Charlotte frowned, her voice clear and cool. “Leave it on.”

“Are you afraid of the dark?” Anthony asked quietly. It clicked for him then—the last couple of times he’d carried her back to her room, the lights had always been on. Abandonment, abuse, a fear of the dark… What else had she been through?

“Okay.” Anthony let go of the lamp and bent down, gently squeezing her hand. “Goodnight. Sweet dreams.”

Please, he thought, just stay put tonight.

It was three in the morning. The house was silent and pitch black. The sound of a lock turning echoed through the quiet. Footsteps padded softly toward the bed.

Anthony was a light sleeper. The second he heard the door open, he woke up.

Here we go again.