The Mocked Miss’s Hidden Crowns novel Chapter 1777

Inside the lounge, Newell sat quietly on the sofa, his eyes drifting over the tall, stiff bodyguards stationed around him. He frowned a little and smirked, his tone casual.

“So what’s the deal with Anthony? He brings me all the way here just to keep me locked up, with you guys standing guard?”

The bodyguards exchanged uncertain glances, but said nothing.

“Go tell him to relax. I’m not here to steal his bride today. He doesn’t need to watch me like I’m some sort of criminal.”

If he hadn’t been afraid of bringing too many people and risked Charlotte noticing, he wouldn’t have ended up stuck here.

The bodyguards didn’t budge.

Newell frowned, falling silent for a few seconds. Finally, he let out a short, cold laugh. “Alright, I’ll wait until the wedding’s over.”

He couldn’t help thinking Anthony really was the perfect leader of the X Organization—careful in every single detail.

Meanwhile, outside the door, Anthony was holding Charlotte close, his arm protectively around her waist as he guided her forward.

“Newell didn’t come out to see me himself?” Charlotte asked. Her wedding dress was beautiful, but the complicated design made it hard to walk, and she leaned into Anthony for support.

“No,” Anthony replied. He reached up to gently tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear, a warm smile softening his features. “I’ll wait right here. When you two are done talking, I’ll come in.”

Charlotte came to a stop, her brows knitted with confusion. She looked up at Anthony. “Why aren’t we going in together?”

Her voice was sweet and a little pouty, clearly leaning on him for reassurance.

Anthony’s expression softened as he tidied up her makeup and let go of her hand. “Maybe you two have things to talk about. Just call me if you need anything, okay?”

Charlotte still felt lost, biting her lip before heading toward the door.

Was Anthony really willing to let his bride be alone with him?

Charlotte expertly avoided Newell’s hand when he tried to ruffle her hair, her bright gaze locked onto him. She frowned. “So, are you here to see me, or are you here to see Anthony?”

The direct question caught Newell completely off guard. It wasn’t the first time Charlotte had lumped him and Anthony together like that.

“What do you think?”

Newell helped her to the sofa, poured her a glass of water, and offered her his usual refined smile. “Charlotte, you look so grown up today. You’re beautiful.”

Charlotte took a small sip, her eyes meeting his. “Does the antidote for the gene mutation cause memory loss?”

The sudden shift in topic made Newell pause, surprised. “What?” he asked, his confusion written all over his face.