When Cotton spoke, Donald turned to Charlotte, studying her calm expression. His brow furrowed. Did she even realize how bold she sounded?
Cotton was one of his own, a special forces soldier he’d trained from scratch. Maybe Cotton wasn’t the absolute best in The White Whale, but his skills were nothing to sneeze at. Sure, Charlotte had talent. She’d pulled off some impressive moves and even managed to take down a national kickboxing champ. Still, if she went up against Cotton, there was no question she’d end up losing.
“Don’t get too cocky.” Donald stayed where he was, his eyes locked on Charlotte’s face, a strange sense of familiarity tugging at him. “Cotton doesn’t know how to pull his punches. If you get hurt, it won’t be a small deal.”
“Donald’s right.” Cotton, suddenly praised, straightened up with a proud tilt of his chin. His tone was heavy with meaning. “If you get so much as a scratch, I’ll have a hard time explaining it to the higher-ups.”
Cotton figured that was the end of it and started to turn away, but Charlotte’s voice cut in, clear and unbothered. “So are you fighting or not?”
“What?” Cotton was caught off guard.
“Either fight me or admit you can’t and let someone else step in.” Charlotte lifted her chin, her lips barely parted. The smile in her eyes was cold enough to send a chill down his spine. “Don’t waste my time.”
Cotton hesitated, glancing at Donald for direction.


VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABEL
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: The Mocked Miss’s Hidden Crowns