The Mocked Miss’s Hidden Crowns novel Chapter 822

Newell finally opened his eyes at the sound, slow and unhurried. He stood tall in front of the old window, shadows pooling in his dark eyes as he gazed outside. “What’s the hurry?” he said, his voice lazy and calm.

“But, Nine…” his assistant stammered, clearly confused by Newell’s reaction.

Wasn’t he worried about Nine? Back when she first joined the training camp, even the smallest scratch would have him frowning for hours. If he stepped in to save her now, she might see him in a whole new light.

“This is a chance,” Newell said, picking up his wine glass. He smiled, but there was a hint of bitterness in it. “It’s the perfect time to see if Anthony can really protect Charlotte. If he can’t…”

The words hung in the air.

His assistant pressed his lips together, watching Newell closely. Was Newell planning to take her for himself if Anthony failed?

***

Outside the convention center, a line of black SUVs waited at the curb. Five or six bodyguards in neat suits stood by the cars, stiff and alert.

When their targets finally appeared, Leif, the leader, hurried forward. “Charlotte. Anthony.” His voice was careful and respectful.

But when Leif saw Anthony’s face, his words almost caught in his throat. The last time they met in Solenia, he had led a team chasing Anthony and even shot at him. Did Anthony remember? Leif wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Charlotte just nodded, her gaze sweeping over the rest of the group. There was nothing on their clothes to give away the N Organization. Even she couldn’t find a flaw in their cover.

“Let’s go,” she said.

As Charlotte and Anthony passed by, Anthony slowed a little, shooting Leif a look. Leif instantly dropped his head, feeling a wave of guilt.

“You’re good at lying low,” Anthony said, lips curling with a ghost of a smile. He didn’t say anything more, just opened the car door and helped Charlotte in.

Leif’s knees nearly buckled. Somehow, Anthony’s smile was scarier than his silence.

The engine growled and the SUV shot away from the convention center.

Franco’s butler rushed outside, just in time to catch a glimpse of their taillights. He frowned. “Call the traffic department. Turn on the satellite. I want their car tracked.”

It was rare to find a girl who looked so much like Mrs. Hawk, right down to the way her eyes shone and the set of her jaw.

***

Five minutes into the drive, Hans and Jackson, who was riding up front, both noticed something off.

“Anthony, we’re being followed,” Hans said quietly.

Anthony shifted Charlotte, making sure she was comfortable. His voice dropped, low and dangerous. “They’re asking for trouble.”