The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 223

"You can discuss the wedding details with Lyra later," Lawrence said. "My secretary has finalized the guest list. I'll have it brought to you tomorrow."

"Alright."

The conversation shifted to mundane logistics—the reception menu, guest accommodations, the ceremony schedule. The Langfords eagerly agreed with everything, occasionally offering minor, harmless suggestions.

The tension in the room seemed to ease slightly.

Until the dining room doors swung open.

Everyone assumed it was a waiter coming in to refill the tea.

So when Lydia Langford appeared in the doorway, a full three seconds of absolute, suffocating silence gripped the room.

She wore a red velvet dress with a plunging V-neck and a hemline that barely reached her mid-thigh. Her hair was styled in massive, dramatic waves, cascading over her shoulders. Her makeup was heavy, with sharply winged eyeliner and stark crimson lipstick. Clutching a tiny silver handbag, she stepped onto the plush carpet, her heels making no sound.

She stood there, sweeping her gaze over every person in the room before finally locking eyes with Christian.

A slow, mocking smile stretched across her lips.

The fork in Mrs. Langford's hand clattered against her porcelain plate.

Mr. Langford shot up from his seat, his chair scraping violently against the floor.

Lyra's face instantly drained of color. Her hand instinctively flew to her stomach, as if bracing for an invisible attack.

Lawrence and Penelope exchanged a glance, mutual shock—and a much deeper suspicion—flashing in their eyes.

Only Christian remained perfectly still. He simply raised his eyes and stared at Lydia. She was out? This quickly? A wave of suspicion hit him.

"Sorry I'm late."

Lydia's voice dripped with deliberate, saccharine sweetness. She sauntered inside, pushing the door shut behind her. Step by step, she walked over to the empty seat beside her mother—the spot originally set for her before the Langfords claimed she couldn't make it, prompting the staff to remove the silverware.

She pulled out the chair and sat down, flashing a smile at the stunned waiter standing nearby. "Be a dear and bring me a place setting."

The waiter gave a bewildered nod and hurried out.

The room remained dead silent.

Mrs. Langford finally snapped back to reality. Her voice trembled, practically squeezed from her throat. "L-Lydia... how are you... how are you out?"

Lydia turned to her mother, her smile unwavering. "Mom, what a thing to say. Why wouldn't I be out? It's not like I broke the law."

She said it so casually, but it struck the Langfords like a physical blow to the face.

Lawrence furrowed his brow and looked at Mr. Langford. "What is the meaning of this?"

Mr. Langford opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Sweat beaded on his forehead, gleaming under the chandelier.

Lydia seamlessly took over the conversation, her tone as light as if she were discussing the weather. "Mr. Lancaster, it's nothing. Just a little misunderstanding with someone recently. The air is cleared now, so I'm back."

Christian finally moved. He placed his spoon down, the silver clinking sharply against the china.

"Lydia." He spoke quietly, but the sheer gravity of his voice made everyone in the room hold their breath. "This is not the place for your tantrums."

The smile slowly vanished from Lydia's face.

She set her glass down, leaning forward and propping her elbows on the table, staring straight at him. "How am I throwing a tantrum? I came to celebrate my sister's wedding dinner. Is there something wrong with that?"

"You know exactly what you're doing." Christian's tone was flat and completely devoid of emotion. "If you want to leave your family with a shred of dignity, get out."

It was a brutal dismissal.

Mr. Langford abruptly stood up. "Christian, you—"

"Mr. Langford." Lawrence cut him off, his voice steady but radiating absolute authority. "I believe Christian is right. Tonight is about finalizing family matters. If your daughter has personal issues to air, she can do it on another day."

It was an ultimatum.

Lydia stared at Christian for a long time. Then, she suddenly laughed—a manic, reckless sound of someone with nothing left to lose.

"Fine. I'll leave." She stood up and grabbed her handbag. "But before I go, I have one last thing to say."

She turned to Lyra, enunciating every word. "Congratulations, Lyra. I hope you can... secure your position as Mrs. Lancaster."

With that, she turned on her heel and walked toward the door.