Chapter 23
Anthony’s warmth seeped through her bangs, sending little sparks of electricity all over her body.
Charlotte’s eyes trembled just a bit. She bit her lip and spoke slowly, making sure he caught every word.
“I’m not a kid.”
Anthony’s eyebrow lifted. He looked at her, a little surprised.
“Oh?”
Their eyes met. For a second, it felt like the whole world just… paused. The air in the car got heavy, awkward in a way that made Charlotte’s cheeks burn. She suddenly
felt too hot and a little annoyed with herself. Her voice turned cool, her words precise.
“I’m an adult.”
She really wished he’d stop calling her “little one” or “kid.”
Anthony looked away, but she caught the smile tugging at his lips.
“So… you’re an adult, but still my little one?”
Charlotte could feel her face heating up, then going pale. Back and forth, like she couldn’t decide how to feel.
The car stopped at a red light. Anthony glanced over and caught her blushing. His lips curled in amusement.
“Why are you so red?”
“It’s hot,” Charlotte muttered, turning away to stare out the window. Her breath felt uneven, like she’d just run up a flight of stairs.
The AC hummed on, cool air swirling around them.
Watching her tiny figure turned away, lips pressed tight, Anthony just smiled and let it go.
Fifteen minutes later, the Bugatti pulled up at the gated entrance of her neighborhood.
Anthony got out, walked around, and opened her door. Charlotte stepped out, looked up at him and said quietly,
“If Patricia keeps taking her medicine, she’ll get better soon.”
She turned to leave.
“Wait.”
Charlotte stopped. She turned back, tilting her small face up to him, waiting.
“I’ve got something for you,” Anthony said, his voice low.
Something for her?
She hesitated, then held out her palm.
He placed a black hair tie in her hand.
“Don’t lose it again, Lottie.”
He leaned down so they were eye to eye, his voice rough and soft all at once, the kind that made your heart skip.
Charlotte blinked. She didn’t look surprised, just stared at him quietly.
“Lottie… is that your nickname?” he asked, nodding toward the little charm on the hair tie.
Charlotte mumbled a soft “Mm,” trying to hide whatever she was really feeling, and added with an air of calm,
“Thanks, Uncle.”
Anthony caught the tiny shift in her
night her arms around him,
expression. He remembered net
refusing to let go, looking up with those sad eyes.
“I’m not that much older than you. Don’t call me Uncle. Just use my name. Okay?”
Charlotte squeezed the hair tie, her tone firm.
“When you were twenty, I was ten.”
“When you were in college, I was still in third grade.”
“I think Uncle fits better.”
Anthony said nothing.
“Thanks, Uncle. Bye.”
She smiled, just a bit, then turned and walked away, leaving him standing there with
a helpless look on his face.
He replayed her words in his mind. At first, the age gap hadn’t seemed so big. But the way she said it-college student, elementary schooler, it made him sound like Some creep chasing after a kid.
Anthony leaned against the car, fingers pressed to his forehead, a low laugh rumbling in his chest.
She really was something else.
Charlotte stepped into the house. She barely made it into the foyer before Elizabeth’s shrill voice rang out.
“Charlotte, why didn’t you tell us you were going out? We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Charlotte looked up.
Across the room, Steven sat on the sofa in a sharp suit, his face set in a cold scowl.
“The Main Family isn’t like the
countryside. You can’t just come et
and go as you please. A few years away and you’ve forgotten all your manners?”