From His Invisible Wife to the World's Icon novel Chapter 41

She didn't want to stay, but...

"Lydia, I heard your mother had a severe heart attack. How is she doing?"

Meeting Charles Foster's concerned gaze, and feeling terribly guilty for delaying his preparations for the political election, she stayed to discuss her mother's condition.

Frederick walked away, his expression indifferent.

Just before the study door clicked shut, she heard Seraphina pick up the phone and say, "Sierra, I tried my best..."

By evening, she was sitting on the living room sofa, watching the staff bustle in and out of the kitchen. Her gaze drifted toward the pavilion outside, where father and son were playing chess. She was lost in thought when her phone rang.

Seeing the caller ID, she wanted to decline, but ultimately hit accept.

"Lydia, did you really think blocking me once meant you could stop me forever? I'll be sitting in the chairman's seat at the Foundation sooner or later."

"Frederick hired Sebastian to defend my mother. She's already washed her hands of the whole thing."

Listening to Sierra's smug taunts, she replied coldly, "Sebastian? Didn't you say last time that Sebastian submitted a court mediation to have me kicked out on the street?"

Stung by her sarcasm, Sierra faltered for a moment before arguing back, "Charles just didn't agree to it. But once the joint venture between the Foster and Sutton families goes public, he won't have a choice."

Lydia scoffed, ready to hang up, when Sierra suddenly blurted out, "Lydia, Frederick bailed out Luke Gates!"

"Aren't you at the main Foster estate?"

"Go upstairs and see for yourself. You mean absolutely nothing to him. You can't even compare to a fake uncle."

"Stop being so delusional, you'll never change him..."

Her finger hovered over the red end-call button. She hung up, blocked the number, and looked up—catching Frederick's cold, indifferent glance as he casually looked back. She slowly placed her feet on the floor and stood up, but a sharp wave of agony shot through her right ankle.

She wiped the fine layer of cold sweat from her forehead and limped up to the second floor, checking room by room.

Suddenly, Luke's scratchy, grating voice echoed from behind one of the guest room doors. Peering through the crack, she saw him wrapped in thick bandages like a mummy, looking as though every bone in his body was broken.

"Seraphina, why are you hiding me here? The cops don't have any security footage, they have no proof to charge me! I want out of here..."

"Do you want Frederick to find out? If he knows you touched his wife, you're dead."

"Frederick doesn't even mind! He's the one who bailed me out. Why are you getting so worked up?"

Hearing those words, her legs gave out. She grabbed the hallway railing, her gaze dropping, and locked eyes with Frederick's dark, predatory gaze just as he walked through the front door.

Her ankle throbbed with numbing pain. Gritting her teeth, she looked away and painfully limped down the stairs, one agonizing step at a time.

As Lydia took her final step off the staircase, her strength vanished. She collapsed, but a large hand firmly gripped her arm.

"Lydia, what's wrong?"

Charles's concerned voice came from above. "Why are you so pale? What happened to your ankle? It's completely swollen!"

"I'm fine... Dad, I'm going to head to the hospital..."

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