The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 332

San Francisco, three o'clock in the afternoon.

Julian St. Claire sat in the conference room, a thick draft contract spread open in front of him. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting sharp shadows across his profile.

The room was quiet, filled only with the occasional rustle of turning pages. Across the table, representatives from the opposing party were murmuring among themselves.

His phone vibrated.

Julian glanced down. It was an encrypted message.

He opened it, his eyes sweeping over the brief lines of text—

[Found her. Iris is Evelyn Sullivan. Cardiology expert, known in the medical field as 'Dr. Rose.' She also designs jewelry under the alias 'Iris' and just won the grand prize at the International Jewelry Design Competition in Paris tonight. She has deep ties with Lady Elara of the Astor family and is treated as their honored guest.]

Julian stared at the words, a slow smirk curving his lips.

Dr. Rose.

The master designer, Iris.

No wonder.

No wonder she had been so composed, so unbothered, so entirely indifferent to his subtle probing.

This woman was even more interesting than he had anticipated.

"Well, well," his partner, Julian Vance, leaned in and lowered his voice. "Did some gorgeous woman just text you an invitation? What's with that smug smile?"

Julian put his phone away and gave him a flat look.

"Is that all you ever think about?"

Vance chuckled, but before he could reply, the conference room doors were pushed open.

A middle-aged man in a sharp black suit hurried in. It was Mr. Lee, one of the managing partners of Julian's law firm.

"Gentlemen," Mr. Lee said, his expression strained. "We just received word. The opposing party has made a last-minute change to their delegation."

A hush fell over the room.

Julian frowned slightly.

"Who did they send?"

Mr. Lee looked at him and took a deep breath.

"Lancaster Group. Lawrence Lancaster is here personally."

Julian's pupils constricted slightly.

It was only for a fraction of a second, too fast for anyone to notice.

Then he lowered his gaze, his tone as casual as if nothing had changed.

"Understood. Do we need to revise the contract?"

Mr. Lee shook his head. "The specific terms shouldn't change much, but since he's here, we'll have to go through it line by line again."

As soon as he finished speaking, the doors opened once more.

A group of people filed into the room.

Leading them was a man in his fifties. He wore a dark gray tailored suit, his hair flawlessly slicked back. He possessed a commanding presence and an incredibly sharp gaze.

Lawrence Lancaster.

The head of Lancaster Group, and Christian Lancaster's father.

Julian sat in his seat, watching the man walk in.

That silhouette, that face, that confident stride—

He recognized it all too well.

It was etched into his very bones.

Twenty-five years.

Over countless sleepless nights, he had traced the lines of that face on the yellowed photograph his mother had left behind.

But Lawrence's smile made Julian sick to his stomach.

Lawrence's gaze swept across the room and lingered on Julian for a brief second.

Just a single second.

Then he looked away and continued speaking with Mr. Lee.

Julian lowered his eyes and took a deep breath, then another.

He could feel the tension in his hand as he gripped his fountain pen.

Engraved on the cap of that pen was a single letter—

'E'.

It was the only thing his father had left behind.

Right now, that cold metal pressed against his palm, reminding him exactly who he was and why he was sitting there.

——

The negotiations officially began.

Lancaster Group's legal director opened his laptop and started going through the contract clause by clause.

"Article seven, regarding intellectual property rights..."

"Article twelve, liability for breach of contract..."

"Article eighteen, dispute resolution methods..."

One by one, line by line.

Both sides went back and forth, fighting fiercely for their respective interests.

Julian sat there, rolling the old pen between his fingers. He listened to the opposition speak, occasionally interjecting to point out loopholes and suggest revisions.