The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 347

The waiter approached them and bowed perfectly.

"Ms. Langford, Mr. Lancaster, Her Grace requests your presence."

Lyra's heart skipped a beat.

She looked in that direction.

The Duchess of Bourbon was seated on a plush sofa, smiling warmly at them.

Lyra clenched her fists, a suffocating wave of anxiety washing over her.

She forced herself to relax her hands, letting a gentle, practiced smile bloom across her face.

"Of course. We will head over right away."

She linked her arm through Christian's and began the long walk toward the Duchess.

Christian didn't say a word.

He simply let himself be led, matching her steps.

But his mind was entirely consumed by the images from earlier—Evelyn supporting Charles, Evelyn glancing back at him, Evelyn smiling at that Sebastian Thorne.

He had no idea what expression was currently on his own face.

All he knew was that the dull ache in his right hand had returned with a vengeance.

***

The two of them stopped in front of the Duchess.

"Your Grace," Lyra said, offering a flawless curtsy and a sweet smile.

The Duchess gestured warmly for them to sit.

"Ms. Langford, earlier, Iris mentioned that Mr. Lancaster is something of a half-brother to her?" she asked.

Lyra's smile froze for a fraction of a second.

She quickly recovered, nodding as she spoke in her softest tone. "Yes, Your Grace. Their families were neighbors when they were children."

The Duchess's eyes lit up.

"That's wonderful," she beamed. "Iris is such a brilliant girl, perfect in every way—except she's far too modest. If Mr. Charles hadn't made an appearance tonight, none of us would have ever known about her true heritage."

Lyra maintained her smile, though inside she felt like she was dying a thousand deaths.

The Duchess continued, "Did you know? Mr. Charles is hosting a global youth summit this year, specifically inviting the brightest young minds from around the world. It will take place in about two months."

Lyra's eyes widened slightly.

A global youth summit?

Hosted by Charles de Rothschild?

An invitation to an event like that was the ultimate dream for anyone in high society.

The Duchess looked at her, smiling easily. "Iris will surely be attending, won't she? Did she mention it to you?"

Lyra's smile stiffened completely.

She glanced desperately at Christian.

Christian spoke, his voice entirely mechanical. "She did not."

The Duchess looked slightly surprised.

"She didn't?" The surprise was evident in her tone. "You're practically family. She hasn't said a word?"

Lyra rushed to do damage control. "Your Grace, it's just... Dr. Sullivan has had a lot of family matters to deal with recently. Her grandfather was hospitalized, and she's been taking care of him. She probably just hasn't had the time to bring it up."

The Duchess nodded in understanding.

"Ah, I see," she said softly. "Well, that makes sense. Besides, it's still two months away, so there's no rush."

Lyra let out a discreet sigh of relief.

But deep inside, the toxic fire of jealousy burned hotter than ever.

A global youth summit.

Held by Charles.

And Evelyn would be front and center.

While Lyra didn't even have the right to know it existed.

***

Standing nearby, Madeline listened to the entire exchange, the corner of her lips curling upward.

Holding her champagne flute, she strolled over at a leisurely pace.

"Your Grace," she chimed in, batting her eyelashes with a perfectly executed look of pure innocence. "This youth summit... the people invited must be of upstanding moral character, fiercely loyal to their partners, and completely honorable, right?"

The Duchess paused for a moment before letting out a soft laugh.

"Naturally. When Mr. Charles selects his guests, character is always the absolute priority."

His phone suddenly buzzed.

He glanced at the screen. It was a text from a friend still at the venue.

[Did you hear? Charles showed up tonight! And that designer, Iris? She's his granddaughter!]

Leon's pupils contracted violently.

Charles?

Iris?

His granddaughter?

His mind flashed back to the scene in Lady Elara's room—the woman in the beige trench coat, standing beside his grandmother, her gaze unnervingly calm and composed.

Iris.

Charles's granddaughter.

And he had almost...

His fingers began to tremble.

Just then—

"HONK!"

A deafening horn blasted through the air.

Leon snapped out of his daze, realizing he had drifted out of his lane and was barreling straight toward a pedestrian!

He yanked the steering wheel violently!

The tires screeched against the asphalt in a terrifying wail.

The car missed the pedestrian by mere inches and slammed violently into the guardrail.

CRASH!

The airbags deployed instantly, slamming into his face.

Leon slumped against the steering wheel, gasping for air.

But only one thought echoed frantically in his mind—

He wanted that woman...