The Mocked Miss’s Hidden Crowns novel Chapter 1077

“Mr. Churchill!”

The moment the bodyguards realized who was inside the sports car, they all lowered their heads, their posture instantly respectful.

The car rolled to a stop, and the window slid down. Newell’s face appeared, calm and elegant, his features soft but unmistakably refined. His blue eyes swept over the bodyguards, then landed on Asclepius standing nearby.

Charlotte didn’t flinch or move. She just lifted her lashes and met his gaze with cool, indifferent eyes, clearly not bothered about being recognized.

Newell caught her attitude and, almost as if to hide a smile, pressed his fist to his lips and gave a soft cough. Then he got out of the car, walked straight over to Charlotte, and looked her up and down, clearly intrigued.

“And this is…” he started.

Charlotte said nothing.

“This is Asclepius. Mr. Aloys invited him,” one of the bodyguards explained quickly, knowing Asclepius’s reputation for impatience.

“So you’re Asclepius.” Newell stepped closer, offering his hand with a friendly smile. “Nice to meet you.”

Charlotte just frowned slightly and glanced at his hand, but didn’t take it. “Sorry, I’m a bit of a germaphobe,” she said, voice flat.

Newell froze for a second. A germaphobe? He’d seen her holding hands with Anthony more times than he could count. She was always the one to reach out first, too.

“You know, you look kind of familiar…” Newell said, pulling his hand back, trying to play it off with a wry little smile.

“Do I?” Charlotte checked her watch, already looking annoyed. She turned away, not even bothering to hide her impatience. “Funny, you look familiar to me, too,” she replied coolly.

Newell blinked, thrown off.

Charlotte didn’t stop. “You remind me of this really annoying old man.”

Newell was left speechless.

“Mr. Churchill, where should we park your car?” one of the bodyguards asked, stepping in to break the tension.

Left standing alone, Marcia bit her lip and shot a dark look in the direction Asclepius had gone before following them in.

***

In the break room, Allanson sat at his desk, eyes fixed on the computer screen as he watched footage from Asclepius’s experiments. Ever since he’d noticed how much “he” looked like Franco, he couldn’t help but search for more similarities.

After a quiet pause, Allanson picked up his phone. His voice carried a weight that only came with age and authority. “Look into Franco again.”

“Sir, which part do you want us to check?” came the respectful reply on the other end. They had just finished a full background check on Franco, after all.

Allanson’s eyes never left the screen. He pressed his finger to his phone, voice gravelly and low. “See if Franco has any children.”

The person on the phone went silent, stunned.

Franco… had a child?