The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 381

She kept chattering away. "Christian, I know you took a hit. I heard all about what happened with Evelyn Sullivan. But the past is the past. You still have me, and you still have my parents, and..."

Christian's temples throbbed as her endless chirping echoed in the room.

He knew she meant well.

He really did.

But right now, he didn't want to hear it.

Her words felt like a flock of birds screeching inside his skull.

He raised a hand, cutting her off.

"Piper."

Piper Brooks stopped and looked at him.

Christian pulled a sleek black credit card from his pocket, tossed it onto the coffee table, and slid it toward her.

"Take it," he said. "Go shopping. Buy whatever you want. Have a good time."

Piper's eyes lit up immediately.

"A black card?" She snatched it up, flipping it over in her hands. "Christian, are you serious?"

He nodded.

"Swipe it all you want."

A massive grin spread across her face.

Every word of comfort she had prepared vanished into thin air.

"Thanks!" she practically squealed, jumping to her feet. "I'm heading out! Get some rest!"

Clutching the card like a grand prize, she skipped out of the room with unbridled joy.

The door slammed shut with a heavy thud.

But it didn't latch completely.

It left a slight crack.

Christian stared at the narrow gap, shaking his head with a weary sigh.

He stood up and walked over to shut it properly.

Just as his fingers brushed the handle—

The sharp click of high heels echoed down the hallway.

One step, two steps, three.

Growing closer.

Then, a face appeared through the crack in the door.

Lyra Langford.

She stood there, watching him quietly.

Christian's hand froze on the doorknob.

He stared at her through the gap, the faint trace of a smile completely vanishing from his lips.

The hallway lights cast shifting, dramatic shadows across her face.

She wore a pale, flowing dress, her hair cascading perfectly over her shoulders, her makeup flawless.

But her eyes gave her away.

They were filled with exhaustion, anxiety, and a cautious, probing hesitation.

They stared at each other through the narrow opening.

Neither of them spoke.

The air in the room seemed to freeze.

—

A few seconds later, Lyra made the first move.

She pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Her movements were agonizingly slow and delicate, like a cat testing dangerous waters.

"Christian," she began, her voice as soft as silk. "I heard you had a... rough morning."

Christian just looked at her, his expression unreadable.

Lyra stepped closer, reaching out as if to cup his cheek.

He turned his head, smoothly dodging her touch.

Her hand hovered awkwardly in the air.

But she didn't lose her temper.

She simply lowered her arm, maintaining that gentle, understanding smile.

"Christian, I know you're upset," she murmured. "I understand. I really do."

His gaze remained flat, utterly devoid of emotion.

"Why are you here?"

Lyra bit her lower lip.

"I came to see you," she said softly. "I didn't want you to be alone when you were hurting."

Christian didn't respond.