The Mocked Miss’s Hidden Crowns novel Chapter 1079

He was the one who taught her how to disguise herself.

But after all this time, after all their close calls, Charlotte—the clever, sharp Charlotte—hadn’t noticed a thing. Not the smallest slip. There was only one explanation for that.

She’d never actually looked at him.

Newell had no words for it.

…

Newell’s car was marked with the Churchill Family crest. No one dared get in his way. The road ahead was clear the entire drive.

After fifteen minutes, the sports car left the Hawk Family’s restricted zone and pulled up to a private helipad just outside a luxury hotel.

“Mrs. Blair.”

The second she stepped out, a staff member hurried over, polite and formal. “Your flight is ready. Should we let Mr. Anthony know you’ve arrived?”

Mrs. Blair?

Hearing herself called that, Charlotte’s hand froze halfway to removing her mask. She shot the staff member a suspicious look.

He bowed his head, explaining patiently, “Mr. Anthony bought out this hotel. It’s all under his control now.”

“Whatever you need, just say the word. Mr. Anthony’s orders.”

Bought the entire hotel? How much did that even cost?

Charlotte tossed her mask in the trash, glanced at the glittering hotel, and pressed her lips together. “That won’t be necessary.”

He was already busy enough searching for her mother. If the plane got intercepted, she didn’t want him worrying about her too.

“Understood.”

The staff member nodded and stepped away to handle the flight.

A few minutes later, Jackson and Adonis showed up, both looking like they’d barely survived a chase.

“Thought we’d never shake those guys.” Adonis bent over, hands on his knees, gulping in air.

Jackson looked pale, breathing hard.

“Let’s go,” Charlotte said, giving them a quick look. She tugged her jacket tighter and ran her fingers over the two bracelets on her wrist.

Without waiting, she walked briskly toward the helicopter.

They took off without a hitch.

…

At the Churchill estate, Newell stood by the window, one hand holding his phone, the other swirling a glass of red wine. His eyes were lowered, lost in thought.

“How did it go?” he asked.

Cedric’s voice came through the phone. “Nine’s plane is out of the Isle of Veil’s airspace. They’ll land safely at seven tonight.”

“Alright.”

Newell hung up and started to leave. Just then, a woman’s voice called out behind him.

“Newell.”

He stopped and turned, his face expressionless. “Mother.”

His tone was polite, but there was no warmth in his eyes. If anything, he looked like he was facing a stranger.

Damaris was stunning, her features delicate, her smile graceful. Everything about her was elegant and composed.

Seeing her son, she smiled and walked over, her steps light. “You went to the institute. How was it?”