The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 375

She looked at Genevieve, her eyes brimming with a faux pity that cut deeper than any overt insult.

"Genevieve, don't take it too hard. Young men are bound to stumble eventually."

Genevieve stood in perfect silence.

Her fists were clenched so tightly her nails dug painfully into her palms.

But she couldn't snap back.

She knew exactly why these women were here.

For the past few years, Leon had been the most successful among the Duke's sons. He was brilliant, ruthlessly efficient, and had brought massive profits into the family's coffers. Though the Duke treated him with the cold indifference reserved for a bastard son, he hadn't withheld the resources Leon needed to thrive.

Because of that, the sons of Beatrice and her cronies had been completely eclipsed.

Now that Leon had suffered a monumental public disgrace, of course they would swarm in like vultures to pick at the carcass.

Beatrice sighed dramatically and continued.

"But honestly, the timing of Leon's little disaster couldn't be better."

The third wife's eyes gleamed. "What do you mean, Beatrice?"

Beatrice lowered her voice, though she made entirely sure it was loud enough for Genevieve to hear.

"Have you heard? That girl, Iris... she's Charles de Rothschild's granddaughter."

The third wife gasped.

The fourth wife's eyes practically bulged out of her head. "Charles's granddaughter? The Charles de Rothschild? The man in the top three of the Forbes list?"

"Exactly," Beatrice nodded smugly. "The entire country is in an uproar over it. What family wouldn't want to offer up their son? She's Charles's sole heir, sitting on hundreds of billions of dollars, and on top of that, she's a genius designer and a medical doctor."

The third wife gripped her hands excitedly. "My youngest is twenty-two, and he's incredibly handsome. If he could just marry her—"

"Keep dreaming," Beatrice scoffed, shooting her a withering look. "You think an opportunity like that would fall to your son?"

She paused, glancing sideways at Genevieve with a triumphant smirk.

"I plan to bring it up with the Duke later today. My eldest is twenty-eight—the perfect age for her. I'm certain the Duke will approve of the match."

The fourth wife hurried to interject, "Beatrice, my son is also—"

"Enough, enough. May the best man win," Beatrice waved her off dismissively. "But as for Leon..." She turned her gaze fully onto Genevieve, a mocking smile on her lips. "What a shame he's already engaged. Otherwise, with the reputation he's built up lately, he might have actually stood a chance."

Genevieve's face turned completely ashen.

She understood exactly what was happening.

They weren't just here to gloat.

They were here to deliver a message—

Your son is out of the running.

It's our sons' turn to shine now.

Genevieve's body trembled slightly.

But she remained rooted to the spot, not saying a single word.

She knew speaking up would achieve absolutely nothing.

In this sprawling estate, these 'wives' were little more than breeding stock. The Duke felt no love for any of them, and when it came to his sons, he cared only for their utility and power.

Now that Leon had fallen from grace, the wolves were circling.

That was the law of this household.

Cruel, but absolute.

—

Just then, the sound of slow, heavy footsteps echoed from the distance.