The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 476

The voice wasn't loud, but in the hushed ambiance of the restaurant, it was impossible to miss. Lydia's entire body seized up. She knew that voice anywhere. Leon Astor. Her fingers maintained a death grip on her water glass, her knuckles draining of color. The water trembled, sending tiny ripples across the surface. She could feel the tremor starting from her fingertips and traveling up to her wrists, shaking like leaves in the wind. Taking a deep, stabilizing breath, she placed the glass firmly back onto the table. Pierre hadn't trained her for months just for her to fall apart in a moment like this.

She had her script ready. If he stepped forward and saw her face, she would act completely clueless. She was Anna, a business student studying abroad thanks to the Duke's generous patronage. She had never met Leon; she had no idea who he was. All she needed to do was widen her eyes, feign confusion, and say, 'Hello, do we know each other?' She had practiced it relentlessly in the mirror, perfecting the exact micro-expressions. Pierre had drilled into her that as long as she didn't panic, no one would ever see through the act.

The footsteps drew closer. Click, clack, click against the wooden floorboards. Lydia sat there with her spine ruler-straight, her gaze anchored to the tablecloth. She refused to look back. The footsteps halted, not directly behind her, but slightly off to her side. She couldn't see him, and he couldn't see her face. Only the Duke had a full view of her. The Duke simply looked up at the intruder, his expression unreadable.

"Father," Leon said again, this time with a forced chuckle. "What brings you here?"

The Duke didn't answer. He picked up his wine glass, took a slow, deliberate sip, and set it down. "Do I need to report my whereabouts to you?"

Leon's laugh hitched. "Of course not. I just happened to see you and thought I'd come say hello."

The Duke stared him down. It was a look Lydia had seen before—back at a gala where Victoria Sutton had smuggled her in. From the shadows, she had watched the Duke look at one of his sons with the exact same expression, as if assessing a severely defective product.

Leon stood there, the smile still plastered on his face, though the cracks were beginning to show. He clearly hadn't expected to run into his father here, much less be greeted with such hostility.

"Have you handled that matter from last time?" the Duke demanded.

Leon's complexion soured. "Father, about that—"

"I don't want to hear excuses," the Duke cut him off sharply. "Just tell me if it's handled or not."

Leon hesitated for a fraction of a second. "It's handled."

The Duke gave a dismissive hum and took another sip of his wine. He didn't offer Leon a seat, nor did he dismiss him. Leon was trapped in an awkward purgatory. Lydia could feel the suffocating drop in air pressure. She kept her head down, her fingers resting lightly on the edge of the table, entirely motionless.

"Father, who is this—" Leon's eyes drifted to Lydia's back.

"None of your business," the Duke replied, his voice dropping to a glacial chill.

Leon wisely clamped his mouth shut. But just then, the sharp clatter of high heels echoed from the entrance, growing rapidly louder. A woman's bright, teasing voice rang out, "Leon, why did you run off so fast—" The voice abruptly died in her throat.

Chloe Fontane stood behind Leon, draped in a champagne-colored dress, her hair cascading down her back, her face caked in heavy makeup. The moment she spotted the Duke, her smile vanished like someone had yanked the plug.