The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 322

Backstage, inside the dressing room.

Lyra Langford sat rigidly before the illuminated vanity mirror, letting the makeup artist paint her face. The reflection staring back at her was flawless and breathtaking, yet beneath the heavy stage makeup, pure, undiluted panic swam in her eyes.

The door swung open, and Director Julian Vane hurried in.

"Lyra!" he exclaimed, his voice vibrating with barely contained excitement. "Tonight's audience is unbelievable! The Duchess of Bourbon is here in person, and her sister, Lady Elara of The Astor Family, made an appearance too! The entire Astor dynasty is practically sitting out there—sons, daughters, the absolute peak of French high society!"

Lyra's fingers dug sharply into her palms.

The Astor Family.

The name sliced into her chest like a serrated blade.

Oblivious to her terror, Julian continued to gush. "Also, Lady Elara specifically invited a highly distinguished American guest, calling her a savior to their bloodline. For The Astor Family to show that level of reverence, she must be an absolute titan!"

Lyra's throat constricted violently.

An American guest?

A savior to the Astors?

Her mind was a tangled, chaotic mess, completely incapable of processing the information.

All she could focus on was one horrifying reality.

Leon Astor was going to be out there.

He was an Astor.

He would be sitting in the velvet-lined seats, watching her dance.

Just like he had four years ago.

But four years ago, she had been his plaything.

Now, she was Christian Lancaster's fiancée.

Lyra twisted the fabric of her skirt, her knuckles turning bone-white.

Julian finally noticed her frozen posture. He stepped closer, taking in her ghostly complexion, and his tone softened entirely.

"Lyra, what's wrong? You look absolutely dreadful."

Snapping back to reality, Lyra forced a shaky, plastic smile. "I'm fine, Julian. Just a little stage fright."

Julian studied her, a flicker of genuine sympathy warming his eyes.

"You haven't performed in quite some time, and you're an expectant mother now. It's completely normal to feel overwhelmed." He gently squeezed her shoulder. "Lyra, if you truly can't push through this, I will cancel the performance for you. I have enough standing with the Duchess of Bourbon; she won't make things difficult for us."

Staring into Julian's deeply concerned eyes, Lyra felt a suffocating lump rise in her throat.

This director had fiercely protected her since the day she arrived in France. He had given her endless opportunities, paved her way to stardom, and dragged her out of the mud when she had hit rock bottom. Without him, Lyra Langford wouldn't exist.

How could she possibly betray his trust now?

Taking a jagged breath, Lyra reached up and squeezed his hand back.

"Julian, no," she said, her voice finally steadying. "I can do this."

Julian searched her face, staying silent for a long moment.

"Lyra," he said softly. "You are the most fiercely talented dancer I have ever seen, and the hardest working. But sheer willpower can't fix everything. If there's something going on, you must tell me."

Lyra's eyes burned with unshed tears.

She lowered her gaze, hiding the desperate turmoil swirling inside her.

"I promise, I'm fine, Julian," she whispered. "It's just been so long since I've faced a crowd like this. Once the music starts, I'll be in my element."

Miles followed closely behind, the glow of his phone screen illuminating the grim update he had just received.

"Mr. Lancaster," Miles stepped up, keeping his voice strictly professional. "We still haven't identified the man in the photo. Ms. Langford spent three years abroad dancing for one of the world's most elite troupes. She crossed paths with countless aristocrats and socialites. Doing a comprehensive sweep is going to take time."

Christian didn't respond.

He simply stood beside the Bentley, his dark eyes tracing the magnificent, glowing facade of the historic opera house.

Watching the rigid line of his boss's jaw, Miles felt that same wave of profound pity wash over him.

His boss was wearing a metaphorical crown of betrayal, and it was bolted on tight.

But he swallowed his thoughts and maintained his report.

"I've dispatched a team to deep-dive into her personal network over the last three years, focusing specifically on any male associates. But it's a massive undertaking. We won't have solid answers until tomorrow at the earliest."

Christian finally spoke, his voice an icy plunge.

"Find him."

Two words, but they sent a violent shiver down Miles's spine.

He gave a sharp nod. "Understood."

As they approached the gilded entrance, a man in a sharp black suit stepped smoothly into their path.

"Mr. Lancaster?" The man offered a polished, deferential bow. "Ms. Langford requested that I wait for you here. Tonight's performance is an ultra-exclusive private event. No one enters without a formal invitation. Please, follow me."

Christian gave a terse nod and started forward.

When Miles moved to follow, the man expertly blocked his path.

"My deepest apologies, sir, but seating is strictly limited tonight. Only invited guests are permitted inside the theater."