The Mocked Miss’s Hidden Crowns novel Chapter 1286

Charlotte paused, poked her belly, and nodded. “Yeah. I’m scared something might happen to you… and to them.”

Anthony looked at her, his gaze intense. “I only care about you. No one else matters to me.” Before she could say a word, he pressed his cool lips against hers.

No one else? Did he really just call their babies “no one else”?

Charlotte’s heart skipped a beat. She wrapped her arms around him, frowning in mock annoyance. “Keep that up and the babies won’t want to be close to you when they’re born.”

“As long as they’re close to you, that’s all I care about.” Anthony pressed his face into her neck, breathing her in. His voice was low and rough. “They’ll figure out soon enough who’s in charge around here.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.

…

At the Gates Estate, Nora stood in front of Charlotte, her voice sharp with worry. “Why didn’t you talk to us before you took the antidote? You’re pregnant… what if something went wrong?”

Charlotte leaned against the window, arms crossed and face calm. “Anthony isn’t afraid of dying. Why should I be?”

“You’re not scared, but what about the babies?”

“If they’re scared, then they’re not my kids,” Charlotte shot back, dead serious.

Nora and Franco exchanged a stunned look. They never thought that in Charlotte’s heart, Anthony mattered even more than her own children. She would risk everything for him—her life, her future.

Nora’s eyes filled with tears. She was hurting for her daughter, but there was nothing she could do. “When will you get the results?” she asked quietly.

“They’ll check every three days, for three rounds. If my gene sequence goes back to normal, it’s fine.”

Charlotte and Anthony’s genetic sequences had already changed a lot. The antidote was working for them.

But with Newell, the changes were barely there. The drug wasn’t really having any effect on him. His genetic mutation kept getting worse, faster than ever.

“Lottie, the antidote isn’t working. Newell’s body might not make it…” Dr. David stood with the test results in his hand, his face grim.

Nobody needed him to say how bad it was.

“That’s impossible,” Charlotte said, grabbing the report and flipping through the pages. A chill settled over her as she read the numbers.

Dr. David and Anthony stood quietly, watching her. They could tell she was starting to panic.

The problem wasn’t the drug. It was Newell’s body.