The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 41

Christian Lancaster stood at the door, holding a stack of files, and visibly froze when his gaze collided with Evelyn Sullivan, who was just about to turn and leave. Behind him, his senior assistant, Harrison Ward, and several executives also stopped in their tracks.

"Why are you here?" Christian's brow furrowed, his tone thick with the undisguised irritation of being interrupted.

Time seemed to stretch infinitely in that moment.

Hearing his voice, Evelyn turned to explain.

"Waaah!"

A sharp, piercing child's cry suddenly erupted.

Everyone flinched in shock.

Leo, who had originally been in Lyra Langford's arms, had somehow broken free and was stumbling toward the door, babbling, "D-Daddy."

Perhaps nervous at the sight of strangers, or overly excited by his father's sudden appearance, the toddler ran too fast, his foot catching on the thick edge of the rug just as Evelyn turned around.

The tiny body lost its balance and pitched hard to the side.

And directly in his path was the sharp, unyielding corner of the marble coffee table.

"Leo!" Lyra let out a throat-tearing scream.

It all happened in a blinding flash.

From Christian's angle, what he saw was this:

Evelyn had her back to him, standing right next to the child's path, and the moment Leo fell, she seemed to instinctively turn and reach out toward him.

The toddler's momentum was simply too fast.

Bang.

A dull, sickening thud echoed through the room.

Leo's forehead smashed solidly against the sharp edge of the coffee table.

Blood welled up instantly, trailing down the boy's fair skin, staining his eyebrows and eyelashes before dripping onto the pale carpet to bloom like a stark crimson rose.

"Waaah! It hurts... Mommy... hurts!" The child convulsed in pain, his wails so harrowing they made the heart tremble.

"Evelyn Sullivan." His voice trembled with absolute fury, every word grinding out from between his teeth. "You actually laid a hand on a two-year-old? How could you be so vicious?"

The office fell into a deathly silence.

The only sounds were Leo's ragged, pain-distorted sobs and Lyra's muffled weeping.

Outside, the autumn sun shone brightly, yet it failed to pierce the sudden, freezing atmosphere in the room.

Evelyn stood rooted to the spot, her left hand lightly pressing the elbow she had just bruised, and as she looked at Christian—at his eyes filled with rage, disgust, and undisguised hatred—she gave a very faint, hollow laugh.

The smile was fleeting, like a breath of fog on a winter windowpane, vanishing in an instant.

But the amusement never reached her eyes; they were as cold as a frozen lake.

"Christian," she asked, her voice eerily calm, measuring out every syllable. "In your heart, am I truly the kind of person who would intentionally shove a two-year-old and watch him bleed?"

"I only believe what I saw!" Christian roared, the sound of the child crying in his arms twisting a knife in his gut. "If you wanted to leave, just leave! Why did you have to touch him?"

"I didn't push him." Evelyn's tone remained steady, though a careful listener might catch the microscopic tremor beneath her calm. "He tripped on his own. I never touched him. I tried to catch him, but I was too late."