From His Invisible Wife to the World's Icon novel Chapter 158

Lydia walked over, snatched up the envelope, and tore it open. Pulling out two burgundy booklets, her pulse hitched. She flipped them open, and there it was—the official divorce certificate, complete with her solo headshot!

Remembering Daniel's warning, she quickly shoved them into her bag and spun around to leave.

The very next second, the door swung open.

Standing in the doorway was none other than Charles Foster, flanked by Jordan Drake.

Lydia's pupils blew wide in terror, ice shooting up from the soles of her feet. Recovering instantly, she marched forward and tried to shove past him.

An arm shot out, blocking her exit.

Lydia instinctively tried to draw the attention of the staff outside, hoping for a chance to bolt.

But glancing past them into the hallway, there wasn't a single person in sight.

In that split second of distraction, the envelope was yanked from her grip.

Her shoulders were seized in a brutal grip as she met Charles's eyes, blazing with fury and profound disappointment.

“Lydia, you have truly disappointed me.”

“Was being my daughter-in-law really so terrible?”

“I promised you I would handle Sierra and make sure she never got near Frederick again.”

“Why do you refuse to listen to me? Why do you insist on fighting me at every turn?”

Lydia's stare was freezing, stripped of all the respect she usually showed him. She gritted out every word, “I don't love Frederick anymore!”

Hearing that, Charles flinched slightly. Violent rage burned in his eyes, but he forced it down, his hands sliding off her shoulders. “I do not consent, which means your divorce is invalid.”

“The papers have already been finalized. There's nothing you can do about it.”

Seeing Jordan calmly slide the envelope into his briefcase, Lydia scowled. “Even if you steal them, I can just go back to the City Registry Office and request new copies.”

She shoved the door wide open and stormed out.

“Lydia!”

“Frederick went missing from his flight last night! We still can't find him!”

At the sound of Charles's grim revelation, Lydia faltered for a second. “We're divorced. Whatever happens to him isn't my problem.”

“You are his wife! If he was kidnapped, you're the first person the kidnappers are going to contact!”

“Could you really stand by and watch him die?”

“We can discuss this divorce nonsense after he's brought home safely.”

She had no idea if Charles was telling the truth or bluffing, but regardless, she didn't care.

“Don't try to guilt-trip me. With your money and connections, bringing him back from a kidnapping is child's play.” She marched out of the café, climbed into the white Ferrari, and fired the engine.

A black SUV suddenly swerved in front of her, entirely blocking her path.

Terrified, she slammed on the brakes. Her forehead cracked violently against the steering wheel, and she snapped back against the leather seat.

Her phone began to buzz. She glanced at the caller ID and the time.

She answered immediately.

The man's chilling voice carried through the speaker. “Ms. Sterling, will you arrive within ten minutes?”

“Yes!” She peered down the avenue—Tide Peak at The Beacon Tower was just down the street. “I can be there in five.”

She threw the car door open, deciding to abandon the Ferrari and sprint there.

Suddenly, a thick stack of papers slapped heavily onto the hood of her car.

She froze. Staring at the documents sliding down the hood, she recognized them instantly—it was the divorce settlement, freshly stamped with Daniel's seal alongside another official insignia.

She jerked her head up, meeting Charles's ruthless, predatory stare.

“Help us resolve this crisis. As long as Frederick returns home safely, I will hand over the divorce certificate.”

“Otherwise...”

“Lydia, I will take these documents straight to the authorities and report Daniel and the man who stamped this,” Charles threatened maliciously. “Daniel will be stripped of his license, and his contact's political career will be destroyed. All because of you.”

A suffocating wave of despair crashed into her chest, ripping the air from her lungs. She gasped in agony.

Xavier's voice drifted from her white-knuckled grip on the phone. “Ms. Sterling?”

For a fraction of a second, she had a wild, desperate urge to hold the phone back up and beg Xavier to save her.