The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 227

Lyra paused, her eyes darkening. "But Dad, Mom, don't you find this suspicious? Who is Evelyn Sullivan? She put Lydia in there, and she wouldn't just let her out for no reason. But now Lydia is walking free—who has enough power to pull her out from under Evelyn's nose?"

The question drained the color from her parents' faces.

They hadn't thought that far ahead.

Mrs. Langford finally wiped her tears, her voice still trembling. "Lyra, what... what do we do now? Penelope is furious, and Lawrence said they need to reconsider the wedding..."

"Reconsider?" Lyra's mouth twisted into a warped smile. "Of course they need to reconsider. But no matter what they consider, they have to consider the baby in my stomach."

She looked down, resting a hand gently on her abdomen. It was still flat, but it held her ultimate trump card.

"As long as this child is here, I will be the young Mrs. Lancaster." Lyra's voice was soft but carried a terrifying certainty. "No one can stop me. Christian can't stop me, the Lancasters can't stop me, and Lydia—especially Lydia—cannot stop me."

Watching her daughter's face, Mrs. Langford suddenly felt like she was looking at a stranger.

When did her perfectly docile, obedient daughter become so... ruthless?

Mr. Langford also noticed the shift in her demeanor. He hesitated before speaking. "Lyra, do you have a plan?"

Lyra didn't answer right away.

She walked back to her seat and picked up her phone. The screen was still stuck on the message she'd sent Christian—left on read.

She stared at the message for a few seconds before closing the app and dialing a different number.

"Zack? It's Lyra. I need you to look into something... Yes, about my sister, Lydia. She was released from holding yesterday, and I need to know who bailed her out. I need it fast. Thank you."

She hung up and looked at her parents, her eyes chillingly calm. "Dad, start digging. Use every connection you have. We have to find out who pulled Lydia out. I have a feeling... this isn't simple."

Mr. Langford nodded. "I'll start tomorrow."

"Also," Lyra dialed another number, this time for Lydia. "Mom, stop crying. I'm calling Lydia to tell her to come home. We are going to... have a chat."

The phone rang continuously, but no one picked up.

Lyra frowned and redialed.

Still no answer.

Her expression darkened.

"What is it?" Mrs. Langford asked nervously.

"She's not answering." Lyra lowered the phone, unease flickering in her eyes. "Where is she? Who is she with?"

Mr. Langford stood up. "I'll call her friends and ask."

He walked to the window and started making calls.

Lyra sat at the table, her fingers subconsciously tapping the surface. One, two, three.

The rhythm was steady, but her heart was racing.

Something was wrong.

Lydia's behavior today was too unnatural. Her reckless attitude, her blatant provocation... it wasn't her.

Her heels hit the carpet silently.

But both of her parents heard the sheer resolve in her steps... and the lethal intent.

Outside, the night grew heavier.

Meanwhile, inside The Undercurrent, the music blared and the strobe lights fractured the darkness.

Lydia sat at the bar with a glass of whiskey, watching the crowd grind on the dance floor with a smirk on her lips.

Her phone buzzed in her purse over and over again, but she ignored it.

That is, until the silver-haired guy leaned into her ear and shouted, "Lydia, someone's looking for you."

Lydia looked up, following his gaze to a booth in the corner of the club.

A man sat there, wearing a black suit and gold-rimmed glasses. He raised his glass to her.

She narrowed her eyes.

She didn't know him.

But the aura radiating off him told her everything she needed to know—this was not an ordinary guy.

Lydia picked up her drink and walked over.

Her heels clicked rhythmically against the hardwood floor. *Clack, clack, clack.*