The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 355

A faint smile touched her lips.

If Charles knew, he would be absolutely overjoyed.

She stood up and walked over to the window.

Just in time to see the figure in white get violently knocked down once more.

Her chest tightened.

And then—

He pushed himself back up.

Standing in the center of the mat, he suddenly turned his head, looking straight up toward the second floor.

Through the glass, across dozens of yards, and through the dim lighting.

He looked right at her.

Evelyn froze.

In that split second, she knew with absolute certainty that he couldn't actually see her.

But she felt, even more profoundly, that he was looking right at her.

Not with his eyes.

It was something entirely inexplicable.

Like... telepathy.

And then—

Smash!

Albert drove a brutal punch right into his face.

Sebastian flew backward, crashing heavily onto the mat.

"Pfft—"

Evelyn spat out her mouthful of milk in shock.

The white liquid splattered against the glass, dripping slowly down the smooth pane.

She choked, coughing until her eyes watered.

—

Down in the gym, Albert pulled his fist back, staring down at Sebastian on the floor.

"Getting distracted during a fight?" He shook his head. "That's going to get you killed, Mr. Thorne."

Sebastian lay flat on his back, staring up at the blinding ceiling lights.

Stars danced wildly across his vision.

But a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his bleeding mouth.

He didn't know why he had suddenly looked up at that window.

It was just an instinct.

A feeling that she was up there.

A feeling that she was watching him.

Lance sprinted onto the mat, grabbing Sebastian and hauling him up.

"Boss! Boss, are you okay?!" His voice was shaking uncontrollably. "Your eye is completely swollen! He ruined your handsome face!"

Sebastian waved him off, pushing him aside to stand under his own power.

Every single inch of his body was screaming in agony.

His ribs throbbed, his back ached, his jaw flared with pain, and his eye throbbed relentlessly.

But he stood tall and walked straight over to Charles.

Charles set his teacup down, meeting his gaze.

"Do you need the estate doctor to take a look at you?" he asked.

Sebastian shook his head, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the floor.

"No need. We'll head to a hospital shortly."

Charles nodded, then asked, "You couldn't beat Albert. So, what's your next move?"

Sebastian looked at him, his eyes burning with unwavering resolve.

"I hope you'll grant me another chance. I'll be back in a week."

Charles stared at him, a flicker of deep respect crossing his eyes.

"Alright. I'll give you that for your sheer courage."

Sebastian offered a slight bow, then stole one last glance toward the second floor.

There was no one standing by the window anymore.

The only thing visible was a white streak of spilled milk dripping down the glass.

His lips curved upward once more.

"Goodnight, Mr. Charles. Goodnight, sir," he said to the butler.

He turned around, and Lance immediately rushed in to support him as they limped slowly out of the facility.

—

Once they were out of earshot, Albert walked over to Charles.

"Sir," he said, "the young man may not have beaten me, but the fact that he lasted that long against me is highly impressive."

What exactly had happened to her in the single month she had been in France?

"Investigate it," he ordered coldly. "Find out exactly what Lydia has been doing for the past month. Who she's met, where she's living, and where that money is coming from."

Miles nodded. "Understood."

He turned to leave but was immediately called back.

"Also," Christian commanded, "send a formal visiting card to the Rothschild estate. Tell them I wish to pay my respects tomorrow."

Miles froze in his tracks.

"The Rothschild estate? You mean Charles de Rothschild's private residence?"

Christian nodded.

Miles swallowed hard. "Under what title? A place like that... you can't just casually request entry..."

Christian fell silent for a heartbeat.

"As Evelyn's former neighbor. Or her brother," he said evenly. "She told the entire ballroom that I was her half-brother."

Miles stared at him, desperately wanting to say something but ultimately holding his tongue.

He simply nodded. "Yes, sir."

He turned to leave again, then remembered one last detail.

"Mr. Lancaster, does this mean we're canceling tomorrow's flight back?"

Christian shook his head.

"I'm not flying back yet," he said. "Go tell Lyra and the others. If they want to head back, arrange a car to the airport for them. I'm staying."

Miles nodded and quietly slipped out.

The door clicked shut.

Christian was left entirely alone in the suite.

He turned back around, staring blankly out at the glittering Parisian night.

The Eiffel Tower sparkled in the distance.

But his mind was completely consumed by the image of the woman in the beige trench coat.

A neighbor.

A half-brother.

Since when had he been reduced to her brother?

He closed his eyes tight.

His right hand slowly balled into a fist.

His old wounds began to ache again.