The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 16

"Received."

She switched to another chat window, messaging a contact saved as "Shadow":

"Keep a close eye on Evelyn. Dig into her every move over the past three years, especially her social circle and communication logs. Report back immediately if anything seems off."

"Understood."

Message sent, she wiped all her chat histories, cleared the cache, and tossed the phone onto the bed.

She walked to the window, staring out into the pitch-black night.

Her departure three years ago had been the most flawless trap she ever set.

A cold smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

Three long years, and she was finally back.

Three years ago, when the news of the Lancaster-Sullivan arranged marriage leaked, she was in Paris preparing for the biggest performance of her life. Over the phone, her mother had cried hysterically, "Lyra, the Lancasters chose that Sullivan girl! We are finished!"

Finished indeed.

Everyone in their elite circle knew Lyra Langford was Christian's childhood sweetheart, destined to be the future Mrs. Lancaster. But in the end, the Lancaster family chose the declining Sullivan family, picking Evelyn, the girl who had grown up overseas following her mother around.

Why?

Because even though the Sullivans were broke, Arthur Sullivan still held massive influence in academic circles. Because Evelyn was docile enough not to cause the Lancasters any trouble. And because... Christian's grandfather utterly despised Lyra.

"A mere entertainer," the old Mr. Lancaster had evaluated her back then. "Unworthy of Christian."

So she flew to Paris the day before the wedding. Christian came to see her off, and she had told him, "Christian, I will wait for you. I will wait until you handle everything, and then you can come get me."

He had said, "Okay."

But that wait turned into three years.

For three years, she danced relentlessly in Paris, becoming the youngest principal dancer at the Paris Opera Ballet. But what did it matter? Whenever the elites back home mentioned her, they still said, "Oh, Lyra Langford? You mean the woman who had her fiancé stolen by Evelyn Sullivan."

She refused to accept it.

As for the truth...

Lyra ran her fingers over the forged paperwork, a chilling smirk surfacing on her face.

In this world, people only ever believed what they wanted to believe.

And she was the one spinning the narrative.

Slipping the documents back into their hiding spot, she walked back to the window, gazing in the direction of The Lancaster Estate in the distance.

Scattered lights still flickered over there.

One of those lights belonged to Evelyn.

"Tomorrow..." Lyra whispered to herself, her eyes colder than ice. "You will learn the true meaning of despair."

The wind outside began to pick up.

In the distance, the faint rumble of thunder echoed, signaling an approaching storm.