The Mocked Miss’s Hidden Crowns novel Chapter 494

It was late. The kind of quiet that settles in deep, when the world outside slows down and the night feels endless. Charlotte lay curled up under the covers, her lips soft and pink, her eyes squeezed shut. She looked peaceful, but her sleep was anything but. Her hands clung to Anthony’s, holding on like she was afraid to let go.

Anthony sat right beside her, watching her with a tenderness that made his chest ache. He’d always known she didn’t sleep well, but he’d never realized the real reason. It wasn’t just bad dreams. She was haunted by things that ran much deeper, scars left by things she’d never deserved.

Every sleepless night, every time she wandered the halls in her sleep, it was another sign of what she’d been through. The pain she carried was invisible, but it was there all the same.

He leaned closer, brushing a finger over her cheek, so gentle it was barely a touch. “Lottie, I swear, I’ll keep you safe from now on. No one’s ever going to hurt you again.” The promise hung in the air, heavy and real. He wished he could take all of her pain and make it his own. Whatever she’d lost, he’d find a way to give back. Whoever had hurt her, he’d make sure they regretted it.

His phone buzzed, breaking the moment. Anthony glanced at the screen, then carefully slipped his hand from hers, not wanting to wake her.

The sudden emptiness made Charlotte frown, even in her sleep.

He bent down, pressed a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth, and whispered against her hair, “I’m right here. Just need to handle something. I’ll be back before you know it, okay?” He stroked her hair, gentle and reassuring.

She relaxed, her breath evening out as she drifted back into a deeper sleep.

Anthony gave a small, helpless smile. “So easy to soothe,” he whispered, then slipped out of the room, his footsteps barely making a sound.

Outside, the night was cold. Wind rattled the trees, and the sky was as dark as his mood. At the shooting range a short walk away, Hans stood waiting, flanked by a line of men, all of them stiff and silent.

“Anthony.” Hans’s voice was quiet, respectful.

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