The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 428

The night was as thick and impenetrable as spilled ink.

The luxury sedan pulled through the grand iron gates of Château Rothschild, tires crunching softly against the gravel driveway. The towering sycamore trees rustled in the breeze, casting dancing shadows over the estate under the pale moonlight. In the distance, the magnificent citadel was fully illuminated, every window glowing like a fallen star.

Sebastian leaned against his seat, waves of blinding pain radiating from his back, but he refused to make a sound. He turned his head to look at Evelyn. Her eyes were closed, her breathing soft and rhythmic, long lashes casting faint shadows on her cheeks. The collar of her trench coat was slightly parted, revealing the smooth curve of her neck. The deep green of The Thorne Matriarch's Bangle caught the ambient light, radiating a soft, luxurious luster.

He watched her for a long time before quietly shifting his gaze to the window.

The car came to a smooth halt at the main entrance. Felton was already waiting on the grand steps, flanked by two doctors carrying medical kits and a team of anxious staff. The floodlights lit the area perfectly, highlighting the tension on everyone's faces.

As the door opened, Evelyn blinked awake. She rubbed her temples, trying to shake off the exhaustion, but her eyes quickly regained their usual sharp clarity.

Evelyn stepped out, and Sebastian followed. His movements were sluggish; every step pulled painfully at his torn back muscles. He gritted his teeth, swallowing the groan of pain, though his limp was painfully obvious.

Evelyn walked a few paces before realizing he was lagging behind. She stopped and glanced back.

Sebastian immediately sped up to fall into step beside her.

Evelyn gave him a knowing look but said nothing, leading the way inside.

Felton approached, his sharp gaze doing a rapid assessment of Sebastian's battered state—the scraped face, the crusted blood on his ear, the stained shirt, the rigid posture. The seasoned butler frowned slightly but didn't pry, merely stepping aside with a slight bow.

"Ms. Sullivan, the medical team is waiting inside."

Evelyn nodded and turned to Sebastian. "Go get patched up."

Sebastian wanted to decline, but seeing the authoritative calm in her eyes, he swallowed his protests and obediently followed the staff inside.

The great hall was flooded with warmth from a roaring fireplace.

Charles de Rothschild sat regally on a plush sofa, a steaming cup of tea in hand. He wore a dark grey silk robe, his hair slightly disheveled, clearly having been roused from his sleep. Yet, his eyes were as piercing as ever, carrying the dangerous aura of an awakened lion.