The Mocked Miss’s Hidden Crowns novel Chapter 1794

“Black?”

The confused voice on the other end of the video snapped Charlotte out of her momentary pause.

“It’s nothing, go on,” Charlotte told them, shooting a quick look at Anthony before turning her focus back to the screen. “Just collect a hair sample and run the DNA test.”

Anthony was by the bookshelf, making a lot of noise as he pretended to search for a book. His movements were obnoxiously loud.

Charlotte glanced up, catching sight of his tall frame. She frowned just a little, but kept talking as if nothing was happening.

“Black, about the updated project plan we sent you—” The meeting was interrupted again by another thud. This time, there were two in a row.

“Hang on a second.”

Charlotte pulled off her headset and set it on the desk. She stood up and walked over to Anthony. She leaned against the shelf, folded her arms, and looked at him with a half-amused, half-serious smile.

“What are you looking for?”

“Just browsing.”

Anthony didn’t look at her, keeping his face set and cold. He grabbed a random book, clearly trying to vent his irritation.

“Is it something important? Do you need help?” Charlotte asked softly, blinking up at him.

“No.”

He turned away, deliberately giving her his back, practically radiating sulkiness.

She had to notice his mood by now. He was trying to make it obvious.

“Oh.”

Charlotte was never shy about calling things out. She dusted off her hands and said, “If it’s not important, why not come back and find it later?”

Anthony spun around, his eyes blazing with frustration. For a moment, Charlotte thought he might actually say something, but he just glared, whipped back around, and stormed out of the study.

As he left, Charlotte watched his back, frowning just a little.

Was that anger? At her? Seriously?

Helen trailed off, but Charlotte got the message.

Now that she thought about it, she really had been ignoring Anthony the past couple days.

So all that noise earlier was deliberate.

“Helen, could you make up a plate for him? I’ll bring it.”

“Of course!” Helen hurried to the kitchen and came back with a tray she’d already prepared. She leaned in and whispered, “Anthony’s not in the best mood, so maybe tread lightly.”

“I will.”

Charlotte gave a tiny grin and carried the food to the bedroom.

She pushed the door open.

Anthony was sitting up in bed, his back against the headboard and a magazine held tightly in his hands. His face looked like a thundercloud.

He heard her come in, but didn’t look up. The only sign he’d noticed was the way his grip on the magazine tightened.