From His Invisible Wife to the World's Icon novel Chapter 89

Xavier released her, and she stumbled back two steps. Her gaze inadvertently drifted downward, and as the reality of his physical response registered, a wave of flushed embarrassment painted her features.

The man's expression darkened thunderously. "Get out!"

Lydia practically scrambled out of the VIP room, nearly crashing into Griffin. She turned in shock just as Frederick emerged from Penelope's office.

"Where were you?" Frederick asked coldly.

A chill raced down her spine.

Griffin answered first. "I found her in the restroom, sir."

Lydia shot Griffin a stunned look. Why was he covering for her? Seeing him standing there with a perfectly neutral expression, she quickly looked away.

An hour later, her therapy session wrapped up, and Frederick told her it was time to go home.

Since she needed to gather evidence of their affair, she had no choice but to stay close to him. No matter how violently she despised it, she had to endure.

As soon as they walked out, Frederick took a call and ordered the driver to head to The Pulse.

She trailed behind him into the chaotic club booth.

"Freddie, finally! Get your little terror out of here," someone shouted over the music as they walked in.

Another socialite nudged Sierra, who was slumped over the table. "Your brother-in-law ditched your sister for you again. He clearly cares about you, so stop moping."

Two casual remarks painted the entire disgusting reality of their affair for everyone to see.

Lydia stopped in the doorway. She watched as Frederick ignored the lighthearted teasing, leaned down, and scooped Sierra up in a princess carry. Sierra's flushed, beautiful face nuzzled into his neck as her soft arms wrapped around him. Her bright red lipstick smeared a vivid stain onto his crisp white collar.

"Mrs. Foster!" someone suddenly gasped.

The entire booth went dead silent. A dozen pairs of horrified eyes snapped to her face.

A glass slipped from someone's hand and shattered against the floor.

The sound snapped her back to reality.

Frederick stared down at her. She wasn't fighting. She wasn't screaming.

She was never like this before.

A bizarre, hollow sense of loss crept into his chest, like something vital was slipping through his fingers and he couldn't stop it.

He furrowed his brow, violently rejecting the emotion. He controlled the entire Foster Group. Soon, he would swallow The Sutton Group whole. He was only going to gain more power; what could he possibly lose? "Go take care of Sierra," he ordered coldly.

Lydia's gaze flicked past him to the divorce agreement sitting on the shelf.

It had been nearly two weeks, and he hadn't even opened it.

A self-deprecating smile tugged at her lips. He hadn't cared about her for a long time, and she had wasted so much energy breaking her own heart over him.

Never again.

Jerking her hand free, she turned on her heel and walked out. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Frederick bend down to pick up the dropped files. His fingers brushed against the pink ribbon of the divorce agreement, and he pulled it loose.