The Mocked Miss’s Hidden Crowns novel Chapter 1223

Anthony nodded, taking her advice to heart and smoothing things over with a gentle, “I’ll call and show you in a bit.”

Charlotte’s hand drifted to her stomach. She patted it lightly, hesitating, wanting to say something but deciding against it. Some things were better left unsaid. With parents like theirs, their baby couldn’t afford to get mixed up in any more trouble.

No one expected Anthony to actually go through with it.

Aloys stared at him, stunned for a long moment before finally finding his voice. “You’re actually serious?”

Anthony looked up, his gaze calm and clear as he locked eyes with the man fuming across from him. “If you want to lay a finger on Lottie’s things, you might want to check with the three families backing her first.”

Rena glanced at Anthony and Charlotte, then scoffed. “Three families? At the airport, the Hawk and Churchill families have ten times as many people as you. If you manage to walk out of the Isle of Veil alive, you’ve got skills.”

As soon as she finished, the Hawk family’s bodyguards tightened their grip on their guns, their movements growing even more menacing. With a nod from Damaris, the Churchill family’s men followed suit. All they needed was a single order. Charlotte and Anthony were as good as fish on a chopping board.

Sensing the shift, Olivia finally relaxed a little. Her nerves slowly unwound, and her face softened. She’d thought Charlotte was untouchable, but in the end, she was just like anyone else when faced with real power. If the Hawk family had shown up earlier, maybe Olivia wouldn’t have spent so long feeling hopeless and scared.

Just as everyone thought Charlotte and Anthony were trapped, Anthony’s voice cut through the tension. “Bring him out.”

The next moment, Mr. Churchill appeared, his hands tied, face drawn and tired, hair a mess. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

The sight of him made Damaris’s face change instantly. Her eyes went cold as she glared at Charlotte. “Let my son go.”

“You…” Her voice faltered.

“I wouldn’t move if I were you,” Charlotte said, hands in her pockets, a lazy grin on her face. “Jackson’s aim isn’t exactly perfect. Who knows what might happen if the gun goes off by accident…”

Damaris went completely still, her face shifting between pale and ashen. She didn’t dare risk a single move.

Across the room, Newell had a gun pointed at his own head, but the corner of his mouth curled into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. It was the first time he’d seen his usually untouchable mother looking so lost, so powerless that she couldn’t even muster a word in her own defense.

Charlotte caught the look and stopped short. Was Mr. Churchill… smiling? He was a hostage, his life hanging by a thread, and he wasn’t even worried about surviving? Instead, he was actually smiling.