From His Invisible Wife to the World's Icon novel Chapter 171

"You trust him that much?" The man's voice softened slightly as he noticed her annoyance. "He's just an alumnus."

A shadow fell over Lydia Sterling's eyes at his words.

"Have you looked into him?" Xavier Ford's question floated down from above.

His tone was devoid of emotion, yet it felt oddly aggressive.

Without looking up, she held out her hand. "Can I have my file now?"

The stiff paper landed in her palm. She gripped it tightly and turned away.

"Go back and investigate him," Xavier's cold, deep voice trailed after her, sounding absolutely certain that there was something wrong with Harrison.

Lydia suddenly regretted coming here. She regretted seeing Xavier. Her pace quickened abruptly.

Leaving the cemetery, she wandered aimlessly.

It wasn't until her phone rang that she realized she was lost, having somehow stumbled into a dilapidated neighborhood.

She hurriedly answered. "Hello?"

"Where are you?"

The caller ID showed Caleb Grant's number, but the voice belonged to Frederick Foster.

"I just came out for some fresh air and got lost."

"Send me your location."

Lydia hung up, opened her messaging app, and prepared to send her location... only to realize she had blocked him. She quickly unblocked him and sent the coordinates.

Suddenly, a piercing scream echoed in front of her.

"That's her!"

"That bastard's wife!"

"I saw her at the police station yesterday!"

Lydia looked up in shock. Two burly men were charging toward her with menacing expressions. She recognized them as the protesters holding signs outside the precinct the day before.

She scrambled to turn back.

The next second, a hand clamped down on her wrist.

She was dragged into a narrow alley.

"Don't do anything stupid!" Lydia forced herself to stay calm. "My husband will be here any second..."

"Do you think we're animals like your husband?"

"You're a woman too. Why are you helping a monster like him?"

"Do you not know?"

She couldn't even fathom what would have happened if she hadn't run into Xavier.

Only when the mob faded into the swirling dust did she snap back to reality, turning to meet Xavier's deep, fathomless dark eyes.

"Get off," the man ordered coldly.

It was only then she realized she was still in his arms. In fact, she had been practically draped over him, clinging to his shoulders as she stared out the back window. Now, turning back, their faces were inches apart.

They were so close his warm breath brushed across her lips.

Lydia pressed her hands against Xavier's shoulders and scrambled off him in a flurry of panic.

But the moment her feet hit the soft floor mat, a searing pain shot up from her right ankle.

She let out a soft cry, instinctively drawing her leg back. The hand that had been on his shoulder slipped and clutched his suit lapel instead, pulling her even closer to him than before.

Lydia looked up at him, her delicate features scrunched up in pain, a fine layer of sweat beading on her forehead. Meeting his icy glare, she fought through the agony and apologized. "Mr. Ford, I didn't mean to."

"I..."

His cold, large hand suddenly cupped the side of her face, cutting her off.

Leaning over her, he applied gentle but firm pressure, forcing her to look out the window.

Her pupils trembled as she stared out. Pulled up right alongside their vehicle, facing the opposite direction, was a black Rolls-Royce.

Framed in the backseat window was Frederick's razor-sharp jawline. As if sensing her gaze, he turned, his piercing, ruthless eyes colliding with her shaking pupils.