The Mocked Miss’s Hidden Crowns novel Chapter 1739

Two hours later.

Charlotte woke up to see that most of the dresses in her walk-in closet had been neatly taken care of. Only three were left dangling on the rack, and there was so much fabric on them it could probably cover her whole face.

She clicked her tongue, barely glancing at the dresses as she smirked, tossed off her covers, and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Right then, her phone started ringing.

“Charlotte.”

Adonis’s voice was buzzing with excitement. “We heard back from the people you mentioned. They said they’re willing to talk.”

“Alright.”

Charlotte switched her phone to the other hand, picked up her glass, and took a tiny sip of water. Her eyes were cool, her eyebrow arching just a bit. “What did they want?”

“Um...”

Adonis was obviously nervous, twisting his phone in his hand. “The meteorite research team said you can have the meteorite. But they want you to join their project.”

Charlotte’s face darkened slightly, her patience clearly running thin. “How did they know I understand anything about astronomy or meteorites?”

“Well...”

Adonis hesitated, wasting some time scratching his head before deciding to throw Jackson under the bus. “Honestly, when they found out we wanted to buy the meteorite, they ignored us. Then Jackson got all hyped up and, well...” He paused, then let it out, “he accidentally leaked that you had a secret identity. We didn’t think they’d say yes right away.”

“Right, Jackson?”

Adonis shot Jackson a long look, practically begging. He lowered his voice way down. “Jackson, help me out here.”

“One million.” Jackson didn’t even blink.

“You’re robbing me!” Adonis’s jaw dropped, clutching at his wallet like it might jump out of his pocket.

“Pay up. I’ll take the blame. If you don’t, I’ll expose you right now.” Jackson was ice cold, voice flat. “You blew Charlotte’s cover and lied to her face. If she finds out, do you think she’ll break one of your legs, or both? Trust me, a million won’t fix that.”

Adonis looked like he’d swallowed a lemon. “Fine. Deal.”

***

In the car.

After dinner, Anthony insisted on driving Charlotte to Kingswood University himself.

She lounged in his arms, idly sketching on her iPad. Anthony’s left hand twirled a strand of her hair, his right holding his phone to his ear while he kept reading through some files on his laptop, his calm confidence filling the space. “Reschedule anything that isn’t urgent,” he said, his tone all business. “That’s final.”

He hung up, but before he could say anything to Charlotte, his phone rang again.

“Talk.”

Anthony’s brows knit together as he answered, his voice so cold and sharp the executive on the other end nearly choked.

“Anthony, something extremely important has come up at The Blair Group.”

The executive’s voice was shaking, and he put extra weight on every single syllable of “extremely important.”