The Mocked Miss’s Hidden Crowns novel Chapter 911

Charlotte woke up after seven solid hours of sleep. She blinked slowly, still sprawled across the bed. The sky outside had already faded to dark. Inside, only a small lamp glowed quietly in the corner, bathing the room in a soft yellow haze.

“Awake?” Anthony’s deep voice rumbled beside her, catching her off guard just as she was trying to remember where she was. He leaned in, his palm warm against her forehead, checking her temperature.

Normal.

“How’s Grandma?” Charlotte tried to speak, but her voice came out rough and scratchy.

“She's stable. The doctors are with her.” Anthony brushed a stray hair from her face, his eyes steady on hers. “You feeling okay? Anywhere hurt?”

Charlotte shifted, frowning a little. She felt sticky all over. The marathon flight, then hours stuck in the operating room—it left her feeling gross and exhausted.

“I really need a shower.” She looked at Anthony, voice lazy, eyes lingering on him.

He grinned, thumb tracing her cheek. “Want me to help?”

She nodded right away, snuggling deeper into the blankets. She looked half-asleep, but her tone was certain. “Carry me.”

It sounded less like a request and more like an order.

The way she looked at him, so soft and a little spoiled, made Anthony smile. He leaned in close, their noses almost touching. “Trying to act cute with me?”

“Mmm. I am.” Charlotte’s answer was slow and honest, her arms already winding around his neck. She frowned a bit, impatient. “Are you going to help or not?”

Anthony laughed quietly, gave in, and wrapped her in a towel before lifting her into his arms.

Charlotte didn’t say another word.

***

Charlotte glanced up at him, held his gaze for a few seconds, then just nodded. “Okay.”

Anthony led her out through the main hall. Every maid and bodyguard they passed bowed their heads and greeted them politely, “Charlotte, Anthony.”

News about Charlotte’s surgery had already swept through the Blair Estate. Where people used to just treat her with respect, now their eyes shone with something closer to awe.

They hadn’t made it far before they bumped into Dorothy, who was just leaving after dinner, rubbing at her wrists. She’d been tied up for as long as Patricia’s surgery had lasted, only set free when Anthony gave the order. Red marks circled her wrists, harsh and angry.

The second she saw Charlotte, Dorothy shot her a furious glare, but her bravado vanished just as quickly. She ducked her head and hurried away without a word.

Charlotte watched her go, lips curling into a smirk. “So that’s where Andrew gets his brains from.”

Anthony laughed under his breath, squeezing her gently at the waist. “Our kid’s definitely going to be a genius,” he teased.