The Mocked Miss’s Hidden Crowns novel Chapter 1265

Damaris’s furious yelling echoed behind him, but Newell barely reacted. He pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a slow drag. “We’re flying to Cabinda today.”

“Today?” His assistant looked startled, lowering his voice as if someone might overhear. “Newell, Nine and Anthony are already suspicious. If you head back to Cabinda now, it could get messy.”

Newell just shrugged, smoke curling from his lips. “I’m not planning on walking out of Cabinda in one piece this time.” His tone was lazy, almost bored. “Go get things ready.”

…

Cabinda.

The twins in her belly seemed to know they needed to behave. Charlotte hadn’t felt a single kick in days. They were quiet, letting her focus. Most of her time was spent in the lab, barely seeing daylight. The antidote for the genetic mutation would be ready in a week. This was the final stretch, and there was no room for mistakes.

“Do we really need a clinical trial?” Charlotte peeled off her gloves and radiation suit, tossed them aside, and hooked a chair closer with her foot. She sat down, grabbed her insulated cup, and took a long, slow sip, watching the steam swirl.

Dr. David’s eyes widened. He could tell what she was thinking. “Don’t even think about it. We’re doing this by the book. You wait for the tests.”

Charlotte set her cup down and leaned in, her gaze sharp and a little dangerous. “And who’s going to be your test subject? Don’t tell me you’ve already found someone.”

Dr. David’s fingers tightened around each other. He hesitated, trying to keep his voice steady. “I wouldn’t dare do anything without your say-so. Besides, even if I wanted to, no one weak could handle the first dose in this short a time.”

“Maybe you found someone tough enough.”

A car horn sounded. Mr. Churchill rolled down his window and leaned out. Charlotte was just about to make a call, but the sound caught her attention. She frowned slightly, then looked over.

Mr. Churchill?

A few seconds later, he stepped out of the car, striding toward her with a small, easy smile. “Charlotte, it’s been a while.”

She raised an eyebrow, studying him with a cool, unreadable look. Her emotions tangled up inside. Ever since she’d accepted that Mr. Churchill was Newell’s illegitimate son, things felt impossible to sort out.

He smiled, teasing, “What’s wrong, Charlotte? Don’t recognize me?”