From His Invisible Wife to the World's Icon novel Chapter 70

But by the time she arrived, she heard he had already left.

Joanna stepped out of the elevator, her eyes instantly lighting up. A man with an aura of absolute, terrifying elegance was walking out of one of the suites, heading straight toward her.

"Xavier?" she called out softly.

The man lifted his gaze, glancing at her with cold indifference, and offered a sparse nod. "Ms. Quinn."

He immediately looked away, walking past her with his assistant, Wesley, close behind.

As they brushed past each other, the crisp, masculine scent of cedar wood hit her senses. Her heart did a wild flip in her chest as she turned to watch him walk away.

A bright flush crept up her cheeks.

It wasn't until the elevator doors slid shut that she finally snapped out of her daze. Sure, he was freezing and entirely unapproachable, but that was just how he treated everyone. The fact that she called him Xavier and he actually responded was a massive win compared to how he ignored the rest of the world.

With a light spring in her step, Joanna followed the room number Lydia had given her and knocked on the door.

The door opened, but her footsteps instantly froze.

She looked back toward the elevator.

A sudden realization hit her, and her heart dropped into her stomach.

Xavier had just walked out of this exact suite.

"I'm a friend of Ms. Sterling's," she told the staff member, quickly recovering her composure. She strode into the living room, noticing the doctor standing by, and knocked on the bedroom door.

"Joanna..."

Seeing Lydia in such a wretched state, Joanna swallowed every question she had. Pure, overwhelming heartbreak flooded her chest. "Lydia, are you okay?"

Lydia shook her head. "I'm fine."

"Thank God."

Joanna helped pull the duvet back. The sheer evening gown clung to Lydia's pale skin, practically transparent. Bruises and scrapes marred her porcelain skin—on her wrists, fingers, the corner of her mouth, and her cheeks. But worst of all was the fresh blood seeping through the white bandages wrapped around her hand.

Joanna felt sick with rage and pity. She stepped forward to support her. "Don't move, I'll help you change."

"Thank you, Joanna."

Joanna wrapped her arms gently around Lydia.

"You idiot."

After getting dressed and finishing the IV drip, Lydia headed to the police station with Joanna by her side.

The second they walked through the door.

Frederick wore a dark charcoal suit that accentuated his imposing, unreadable aura. His handsome face was clouded with shadows, but as he gently took Lydia's hand, a fleeting trace of tenderness flashed through his eyes.

It felt like time was rewinding, dragging them back to the past.

Whenever Arthur used to look for trouble, Frederick was always the one to protect her.

Just like when they were kids, he would step in front of anyone who dared to bully her.

"Sierra was with me all night. She isn't the one who tried to hurt you."

"Just explain it to the police."

Even his voice was soft, yet every single word was dedicated to absolving another woman of her crimes.

A bitter, broken smile touched Lydia's lips. The look she gave him was utterly desolate. "I thought the first thing you'd ask me was, 'Are you okay? Were you terrified? Are you hurt?'"

Faced with her shattered question, a complicated emotion flickered through his dark eyes.

His thin lips parted. "The police told me no one touched you."

As if that perfectly justified why he hadn't bothered to care.

"They were inches away, Frederick." Her voice was completely dead. "Just inches away. I was almost dragged off by two disgusting men. I was almost raped. I was almost completely destroyed. And the person pulling the strings behind all of it was her."