The Mocked Miss’s Hidden Crowns novel Chapter 1940

Roger ignored her entirely, dropping his gaze back to the case files. Left drowning in the suffocating silence, Veronica awkwardly clamped her mouth shut. Her eyes wandered over his desk, desperately searching for a strictly professional topic to bridge the agonizing gap between them. Suddenly, her gaze snagged on his right hand. It was heavily wrapped in thick, white medical gauze. "You're injured?" The color drained from Veronica's face. She shot up from her chair, her hand instinctively reaching out across the desk to examine it. "How did this happen?" That was his right hand—the hand he used to hold a scalpel. In their line of work, even a papercut was a disaster, let alone an injury requiring that much dressing. Beyond that, Roger was a famously meticulous man who treated his hands like multi-million dollar investments. In all the years they had studied and worked together, she had never seen him suffer so much as a scratch. "Don't touch me." Seeing her hand coming toward him, Roger's brow twisted in sheer revulsion as he violently jerked his arm back. Veronica's hand froze awkwardly in mid-air. Watching the unfiltered disgust ripple across his flawless features, a sharp, pathetic ache pierced her chest. "I was just worried about your hand." "Don't be." Roger pulled his shirt sleeve down, completely concealing the bandages. His voice was devoid of any warmth. "Are we done here?" Veronica opened her mouth, completely at a loss for words. "If we are, take these files and process them." Roger shoved a thick manila folder across the desk. He didn't even bother to look up. "And on your way out, the door is on the left. Make sure it shuts behind you." No matter how desperately she wanted to stay, Veronica couldn't manufacture a single excuse to remain in the room. After a few agonizing seconds of hesitation, she swallowed her burning pride, grabbed the files, and stood up. But just as she reached the door, she stopped. "Is your hand really okay?" She was a doctor. Did he really expect her not to notice how entirely wrong the situation looked? Roger didn't answer. Veronica frowned deeply. She couldn't shake the feeling that the Roger who had returned to the city was completely different from the man she used to know. His rejection of her wasn't just professional anymore; it was lethally cold. Could it be... was there another woman? Knowing he would rather die than give her a straight answer, Veronica gave up and walked out into the main bullpen. She immediately hunted down Terence. "Dr. Ham, your new desk is all set up. You can log in whenever you're ready," the assistant said with a strained, polite smile. "Thanks." Veronica took a seat. She hesitated for a fraction of a second before faking a casual, conversational tone. "Why exactly did Dr. Gates go play country doctor?" "No idea." Terence shook his head, offering total honesty. "He just dropped it on me out of nowhere. You know how the boss is—he never explains himself to anyone." On top of that, he was the only one from the entire institute who had gone. There wasn't exactly a gossip chain to tap into. "I see." Veronica analyzed the response, probing further. "Outside of the institute, where does he normally spend his time?" "Don't read into it, I'm just new to Cabinda and looking for some good spots to check out in my free time." "Home, mostly," Terence answered truthfully. It was a well-known fact. The boss was a machine—work, home, work, home. His self-discipline was borderline terrifying. "So, there haven't been any... strange women hanging around him lately?" Veronica finally went for the kill. Terence instantly realized exactly what kind of game she was playing. Swallowing the truth about Stella that had almost slipped out, he plastered on a blank, deeply professional expression. "The boss goes straight home after work. He never comes to our department outings." "As for his private social life, I wouldn't have the first clue." Terrified that she would keep asking questions he couldn't deflect, Terence actively threw the grenade right back into her lap. "Honestly, Dr. Ham, if you want to know about his personal life, you're better off asking him directly." "Us subordinates value our jobs way too much to gossip." With that perfect exit line delivered, Terence clutched a cardboard box to his chest and practically sprinted back to the safety of Roger's office. Veronica sat there, her face a mask of furious humiliation. Three questions, and she hadn't gotten a single shred of useful information. Just as Terence had turned to flee, something inside the box he was holding caught her eye. It looked like... gourmet candies? Candies? Veronica's frown deepened. She distinctly remembered that Roger absolutely loathed sweets. If they weren't for him, who were they for? Candy... A woman?...