The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 280

"Dr. Sullivan, we've arrived."

Evelyn stepped out of the car, a simple canvas tote slung over her shoulder and a small carry-on suitcase in her hand. She wore a light gray knit cardigan and jeans, her hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. A white surgical mask covered most of her face, revealing only a pair of calm, composed eyes.

"Thank you, Lance," her voice was slightly muffled through the mask but remained gentle. "Sorry for all the trouble these past few days."

Lance quickly waved his hands. "You're too polite, Dr. Sullivan! It's my job! Mr. Thorne gave me strict orders, and I have to make sure they're done right."

Evelyn nodded and turned toward the terminal entrance.

"Dr. Sullivan!" Lance called out again.

Evelyn paused and looked back.

Lance scratched his head, offering a somewhat sheepish smile. "Um... Mr. Thorne said to send him a text when you land in New York. Just so he knows you're safe."

Evelyn stayed silent for a second.

"Alright," she said.

Then she turned and wheeled her suitcase into the terminal.

Lance stood there, watching her figure disappear behind the automatic doors before getting back into the car.

The car drove away from the airport.

***

Half an hour later, the plane taxied down the runway.

Evelyn sat in a window seat, her seatbelt fastened, looking out at the overcast sky. She had taken off her mask, revealing a clean, radiant complexion. Faint shadows lingered beneath her eyes, a testament to the exhaustion of working around the clock these past few days.

The plane accelerated, lifted its nose, and soared into the clouds.

The panoramic view of San Francisco slowly shrank outside the window—crisscrossing streets, towering skyscrapers, the winding bay waters, eventually blurring into an indistinct outline swallowed by the clouds.

Evelyn watched the receding city, flashes of the past few days playing in her mind.

Isabella Thorne leaning against the headboard, smiling and squeezing her hand, saying, "You've worked so hard, Evelyn."

Sebastian standing in the doorway, watching her intently with an unfathomable gleam in his eyes.

That plate of spaghetti bolognese, which she had eaten more than half of by herself.

And that text message from last night: [The menu from The Gilded Orchid. Let me know what you want to eat.]

A very faint smile touched the corners of her lips.

The way this man pursued someone was truly clumsy yet relentlessly stubborn.

Bringing her meals every day, remembering she didn't eat onions or beans, standing in the hallway waiting for her to finish her rounds, having his assistant drive her to the airport, and specifically asking her to "let me know when you land."

It wasn't that she hadn't noticed.

It was just...

Evelyn let out a soft sigh.

She closed her eyes, pulled a sleep mask from her tote, and slipped it on.

Forget it. She just needed to sleep for now.

The plane broke through the cloud cover and leveled out.

Outside the window, the sun shone brilliantly.

***

The Bayview Retreat, 11:40 AM.

A black Bentley pulled through the gates and parked outside the inpatient building.

Christian stepped out of the car, glancing up at the pristine white architecture. He wore a dark gray overcoat, his posture impeccable. His face gave nothing away, but upon closer inspection, his brow was slightly furrowed.

Sebastian Thorne.

Christian stopped dead in his tracks.

Sebastian spotted him too.

The two men stood a dozen paces apart, their gazes colliding mid-air.

The air seemed to freeze for a split second.

Then Sebastian walked over, his pace unhurried, his expression completely unreadable.

Christian stood his ground, unmoving.

The distance between them closed. Five steps, three steps, one step—

Sebastian halted right in front of him. His gaze swept over Christian dismissively, like he was looking at an irrelevant passerby.

"Mr. Lancaster," he greeted, his tone perfectly level.

"Mr. Thorne," Christian replied, equally composed.

Two simple greetings, yet thick with an undercurrent of hostility that only they could detect.

The receptionist watched the scene, too afraid to even breathe. She looked from Christian to Sebastian, suddenly remembering that Christian had just been asking for Dr. Sullivan, while Sebastian...

She cleared her throat, breaking the eerie silence. "Um... Mr. Thorne, this gentleman was looking for Dr. Sullivan."

Sebastian's eyes shifted back to Christian. The corner of his mouth curved upward slightly—a faint twitch that could barely be called a smile.

"Looking for Evelyn?" he asked. "Did you need something from her, Mr. Lancaster?"

Christian glared at him, refusing to answer immediately.

Sebastian continued, his tone still calm but laced with a chilling edge. "You're a bit late, though. She's already left. She flew out this morning."