The Mocked Miss’s Hidden Crowns novel Chapter 1822

Hearing Cedric's words, Newell's brows furrowed. He could already guess the grim reality of the situation.

Before he could issue an order, a small group hurried out of the laboratory doors. Anthony strode at the front, keeping a protective arm wrapped tightly around the petite girl at his side. Charlotte's face was stoic, but the slight, chaotic rush in her steps betrayed the storm of emotions inside her.

This stubborn girl...

"Boss, it's Charlotte and Anthony," Cedric noted in a low voice. "They must have heard the news from The Hawk Estate. Should we..."

"Head to the estate," Newell commanded, his eyes fixed on the couple. "Drive."

Half an hour later, multiple vehicles screeched to a halt outside the ancient stone walls of The Hawk Estate. The grand foyer was already plunged into chaos, with a team of doctors and nurses standing around in helpless distress.

"Ms. Charlotte is here," the butler announced, his voice carrying over the murmurs.

The medical staff gathered in Allanson's massive bedroom immediately parted, stepping aside to form a path. In the center of the room, lying motionless on the grand bed, was the frail, gray-haired patriarch. A ventilator mask covered his pale face. His eyes were closed, and he looked entirely drained of life. The heart monitor beside him beeped with a shrill, warning tone, indicating his rapidly dropping heart rate.

"The old man took a lethal dose of pills..." The butler wiped the tears from his weathered face, his voice breaking with deep sorrow. "It's my fault. I failed to watch him closely."

"Ms. Charlotte," the lead doctor stepped forward to give a clinical breakdown of the situation.

Charlotte stood frozen in the doorway. Her cold gaze was locked onto Allanson's face, completely tuning out the doctor's technical jargon. But the final sentence snapped her back to reality.

"The organ damage from the overdose is irreversible. Even with the ventilator, he has ten minutes left, at most."

Ten minutes?

Charlotte turned her head slowly, leveling a predatory glare at the doctor that made the man physically flinch.

"Ms. Charlotte, we did everything we could."

Newell stepped into the room just in time to witness the tense scene. His brows knit together. Medicine couldn't solve a broken spirit. Allanson knew exactly how skilled Lottie was as a doctor; if he truly wanted to die, he would have made sure he was beyond even her saving.

The surrounding medical staff stood in deafening silence. Nobody dared to breathe. It was useless. He was too far gone.

Perhaps sensing her furious presence, the dying old man cracked his eyes open. His hazy, fading vision locked onto her face.

Was Mrs. W coming to take him away? Did this mean... she had finally forgiven him?

Staring at the face that so closely mirrored his lost love, a peaceful smile slowly bloomed on Allanson's pale lips. Two crystal-clear tears slipped from the corners of his eyes.

A long, continuous beep pierced the room.

The erratic green lines on the heart monitor slowed, flattened out, and finally turned into a single, unbroken straight line.