The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 346

Outside the gala venue, the night was dark and heavy.

Charles slowly walked out, leaning on his cane, with Evelyn supporting his arm as they maintained a steady, dignified pace. Four men in black suits followed closely behind, their faces devoid of emotion and their eyes sharp with vigilance.

Sebastian trailed behind them, matching their steps perfectly, looking much like a newly hired assistant.

Lance Sterling was standing by the car, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. Hearing footsteps, he glanced up—

And his eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

Was that... Charles de Rothschild?

The man permanently in the top three of the Forbes list, the absolute myth of the European financial world, the patriarch rumored to possess wealth rivaling entire nations?

He rubbed his eyes and looked again.

Yes, it was exactly the face that constantly graced the covers of top-tier financial magazines.

And the person supporting him—

Dr. Sullivan?

Lance's mind completely short-circuited.

He looked further back.

His own boss was trailing behind them in a dark gray suit, standing tall and straight, yet looking unmistakably like a... lackey.

Lance's jaw dropped, hanging open for a solid minute.

Charles reached the car and paused.

He turned to look at Sebastian.

"Do you have a car?" he asked.

Sebastian nodded. "I do."

Charles gave a curt nod and gestured toward his own vintage black luxury vehicle.

"Follow us," he ordered, before turning and stepping into the car.

Evelyn held the door open, glancing back at Sebastian.

Her eyes held a faint trace of amusement, along with something else... something Sebastian couldn't quite decipher.

Then she climbed into the car as well.

The door clicked shut.

The vintage car smoothly pulled away.

Sebastian stood there, frozen for exactly one second.

Then he whipped around and barked at Lance, "Drive! Follow them!"

Lance finally snapped out of his daze, scrambling to yank the car door open.

"Y-Yes, sir! Right away, Boss!"

The two cars vanished into the night, one trailing the other.

***

Back inside the venue, the crowd had begun to thin out, but the fervent discussions had only escalated.

Louis dragged Madeline over to his grandmother, practically sprinting.

"Grandmother!" His voice cracked with barely suppressed excitement. "What is going on with Evelyn and Mr. Charles? How is she his granddaughter? Why did she never mention this to me?"

Lady Elara looked at her grandson and shook her head with an amused sigh.

"If you, her close friend and classmate, didn't know, how on earth would I know?"

Louis paused.

Oh. Right.

If he didn't know, how could his grandmother possibly know?

The Duchess of Bourbon chuckled softly nearby.

"Patience, child." She picked up her teacup and took a delicate sip. "Regardless of the details, after tonight, all of high society in France will know one thing: Iris is the granddaughter of Charles de Rothschild."

Lady Elara nodded in agreement. "Not just France. All of Europe. Anyone who was still on the fence about her, or anyone foolish enough to try and cross her, will have to seriously reconsider their position after tonight."

Louis drew in a sharp breath.

All of Europe?

He looked over at Madeline.

The group shared a knowing laugh.

***

The Duchess of Bourbon set her teacup down, her gaze sweeping across the room.

Lyra and Christian were standing rigidly in a corner, neither of them speaking.

She recalled what Evelyn had said earlier—'That is my ex-husband's sister, I suppose you could call him my half-brother.'

Half-brother?

The Duchess's eyes sparked with calculated interest.

Regardless of whether it was 'half' or not, since Iris had acknowledged the connection, they could be treated as relatives.

Being linked to Charles de Rothschild, even through the most convoluted family ties, was a profound advantage.

She stood up and whispered a few instructions to a nearby waiter.

The waiter nodded and smoothly made his way toward Lyra and Christian.

***

Lyra stood in the corner, feeling as though every ounce of her life force had been drained.

She watched the elite crowd fawn over Evelyn, listening to the endless praise, the burning envy, the sheer awe. Every single word felt like a knife twisting into her heart.

She wanted to leave.

She didn't want to stay in this room for another agonizing second.

But she couldn't.

She knew perfectly well that if she walked out now, every single effort she had made tonight would be entirely in vain. She had danced her heart out, finally catching the Duchess's attention, finally clawing her way into this exclusive circle—

If she left abruptly, the rumors would start tomorrow: that Chinese dancer was ungrateful and didn't know her place.

She would be permanently blacklisted from this world.

She would lose all her newly acquired value.

Taking a shaky breath, she desperately forced a flawless, composed smile onto her face.

Even as her heart bled, she had to keep smiling.