From His Invisible Wife to the World's Icon novel Chapter 168

The moment the door swung open, Lydia snatched her robe to cover herself, sinking into the bubble bath with wide, panicked eyes.

Frederick frowned slightly and stepped inside.

Her lips parted as she blurted out, "We already—"

A piercing ringtone cut her off.

Frederick stopped, glanced at his phone, then shot her one last smoldering look before stepping back out and shutting the door.

"Frederick, I want to stay with you!"

"Please don't let Charles send me back to the country, okay?"

Hearing Sierra's hysterical crying, he frowned, his voice flattening into an eerie calm. "Put the bodyguard on."

"Thank you, Frederick!"

While waiting for the guard to pick up, his gaze drifted back to the frosted glass, listening to the splashing water.

He thought of how frantically she had tried to cover herself.

She was on guard.

Against him?

That was ridiculous.

He had already tasted every inch of her.

Recalling her intoxicating submissiveness before his trip, and the fierce way she had defended him in front of the press...

Knowing he was actively tearing down the Suttons, she should have been throwing herself at his feet.

"Take Ms. Sutton back to the hotel," Frederick ordered when the guard finally spoke.

"Frederick, let me stay at the mansion with you!" Sierra begged, snatching the phone back.

"I won't bother you and Lydia, I promise!"

"I'm so scared being in a hotel all by myself."

"Fine," he hummed softly.

Disconnecting the call, his hand returned to the bathroom door.

"Sir, your father is looking for you."

Gable walked in with a suitcase.

Dropping his hand, he remembered Charles's claim that Lydia hadn't slept from worrying. "Brew some calming tea for my wife."

Gable nodded, and he exited the suite.

Trembling, Lydia rinsed off, wrapped herself in a silk robe, and stepped out. Seeing only Gable, she finally breathed.

"Mrs. Foster, the lawyers said tomorrow's interview requires formal attire," Gable said, hanging up the designer dresses. "Pick one."

"Alright."

"All done. I'll clean the bathroom now," Gable said, her elbow accidentally bumping Lydia's arm.

Lydia's thumb slipped.

The call went through.

Panicking, she scrambled to hang up, but the line instantly connected.

"Yes?" Xavier's cold, brooding voice filtered through the speaker.

A sudden heat rushed to her cheeks. Seeing Gable duck into the bathroom, she hurried out to the balcony. "Mr. Ford... it's Lydia."

Dead silence. Then, "What is it?"

She leaned against the railing, nervously twisting a strand of hair.

She desperately wanted to attend the funeral but didn't know how to ask.

"Well, we were supposed to meet at Tide Peak yesterday to discuss the car crash files..."

"You're in Manhattan now, right?"

"I'm here too. Could I... see the reports you have?"

"You called just for that?" he asked icily.

She winced. He was grieving, and she sounded like a selfish opportunist. "No, no, that's not it."