The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 326

The air inside the VIP lounge instantly turned to concrete.

Lyra stood frozen near the entrance. One hand was still securely wrapped around Christian's arm, while the other had unconsciously grabbed a fistful of her elegant skirt, her knuckles turning white. She stared fixedly at Evelyn as if she had just witnessed a ghost materialize in the center of the room.

Evelyn remained seated beside Lady Elara. Dressed in her understated trench coat, her expression didn't shift a millimeter. There was no shock, no awkwardness—just the calm, entirely indifferent gaze one might offer a stranger on the subway.

The Duchess's sharp eyes darted between the two women, instantly detecting the electric spike in tension.

"Oh?" she asked, a deeply amused smile playing on her lips. "Does Ms. Langford happen to know Iris?"

Lyra's throat felt like it had been packed with dry sand.

She opened her mouth, but not a single sound managed to escape.

Iris? She had absolutely no idea who Iris was. But she knew exactly who Evelyn Sullivan was.

This woman was her fiancé's ex-wife.

The woman she had ruthlessly schemed against, deploying every dirty trick in the book just to force her out of the picture.

The woman she genuinely believed she would never have to lay eyes on again.

And yet, here this woman sat—flanked by the absolute pinnacle of French aristocracy, treated like undeniable royalty. Meanwhile, Lyra had just spent the evening sweating on a stage, performing like a glorified circus act for their amusement.

Lyra's fingernails bit so fiercely into her palms they nearly drew blood.

Standing rigidly beside her, Christian's gaze bypassed the rest of the room entirely, locking dead onto Evelyn.

She sat there, casually conversing in hushed tones with the silver-haired matriarch, a soft, incredibly relaxed smile gracing her lips. The look Lady Elara was giving her was radiating nothing but pure, unadulterated adoration and deep respect.

His mind violently flashed back to the award ceremony earlier that evening. To the image of her standing in the dead center of the stage, bathing in the thunderous, desperate applause of the global elite.

Iris.

Dr. Rose.

Two earth-shattering identities, either of which was enough to bring the world to its knees.

And for three entire years, he had never truly known the woman sleeping in his bed.

Christian's gloved right hand convulsed into a fist. The fresh gunshot wound screamed in agony, but he barely registered the pain.

Sitting beside Evelyn, Madeline took one look at Lyra's horrified, deer-in-the-headlights expression, and a massive fireball of pure rage ignited in her chest.

What the hell was this woman playing at?

She had shamelessly stolen her best friend's husband, and now she was standing here acting like the traumatized victim?

Madeline opened her mouth, fully prepared to verbally eviscerate her—

Evelyn's hand dropped lightly onto Madeline's arm.

The hand gripping Christian's arm unconsciously tightened into a desperate, bruising vice.

Christian frowned slightly, glancing down at her.

Lyra's complexion was terrifyingly ashen, her eyes swimming with a desperate, deeply unhinged fury she was failing spectacularly to hide.

The Duchess was still waiting for an answer, her previously welcoming smile now bordering on profoundly dangerous.

Taking in Lyra's rapidly deteriorating composure, and casting a brief glance toward the two elderly matriarchs beside her, Evelyn made a quick calculation.

Lady Elara's health was fragile; she couldn't afford a massive spike in stress. The Duchess, while fierce, was also advancing in age. And with a room packed with the most lethal gossips in France, letting a scandal detonate here would be an absolute nightmare for everyone involved.

Letting out an incredibly soft sigh, Evelyn smoothly rose to her feet.

"Your Grace," she spoke up, her tone an absolute masterclass in warm, unbothered grace. "Ms. Langford and I do indeed know each other."

The Duchess arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow. "Oh?"

Evelyn let her gaze brush over Lyra, then drift casually over to Christian. Her tone was as relaxed and breezy as if she were discussing the weather over brunch.

"It's quite simple, really. Ms. Langford is currently Mr. Lancaster's fiancée. Christian and I actually grew up in the exact same neighborhood. We've known each other practically our whole lives. Honestly, he's basically a half-brother to me."

She paused, letting a warm, utterly convincing smile blossom on her face as she added, "So naturally, Ms. Langford and I..."