The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 54

After a tense eternity, Stephen let out a ragged sigh, forcefully dialing back his temper. "Fine. We aren't having this conversation over the phone. Come home tomorrow. We'll talk about this face to face. Helena and Samuel miss you anyway."

Helena. His second wife.

Samuel. The spoiled twenty-year-old son Helena had birthed, who was currently attending college—if barely showing up to classes and partying all week counted as attending.

A cold, cynical smirk tugged at the corner of Evelyn's mouth. Missed her? More like they couldn't wait to watch her fall from grace.

"I have plans tomorrow," she said flatly.

"What plans could possibly be more important than your own family?" Stephen’s voice hardened again. "I am your father, Evelyn! When I tell you to come home, you come home! I expect to see you here tomorrow evening. End of discussion."

The line went dead. The dial tone echoed in Evelyn's ear as she stood motionless beneath the streetlamp. The autumn wind howled past, whipping the dead leaves around her ankles. She tilted her head back, staring at the suffocating skyline of New York, feeling an overwhelming, bone-deep exhaustion.

Her phone buzzed one last time. Another text from Madeline:

"Evie, did your dad just call you? I overheard my dad saying Mr. Sullivan threw a massive fit at the Chamber of Commerce today, calling you an ungrateful brat..."

Evelyn locked her screen and shoved the phone back into her pocket. She kept walking, her steps slower, heavier than before.

...

The following afternoon, at four o'clock. The Sullivan Manor.

A taxi pulled up to the gated community, and Evelyn paid the fare before stepping out. The neighborhood was upscale, though a distinct tier below Westmount Estates. Stephen had relocated the company to New York three years ago on the coattails of the Lancaster influence, but kept the family residence here, claiming he was used to the area.

Evelyn walked down the familiar, manicured sidewalks. The houses here were aggressively opulent, with luxury cars parked in every driveway. As she passed one of the sprawling lawns, she spotted a group of middle-aged women sipping tea. The moment they saw her, their eyes lit up with malicious curiosity.

"Well, well, if it isn't Evelyn. Visiting home?" A woman with tightly coiled curls called out, her voice dripping with eager gossip.

Evelyn offered a curt nod. "Mrs. Smith."

"Is it true you're divorcing the Lancaster heir?" Another woman in a silk dress chimed in, her eyes raking Evelyn up and down. "Take my advice, sweetie. Men will be men; they all like to play around. Don't be so dramatic about it. If you throw away a golden ticket like the Lancasters, you'll never get another one."

Evelyn didn't break her stride. "Thank you for the concern," she replied coolly.

Even as she walked further down the street, she could still hear their venomous whispers:

"Can you believe her? Throwing away a billionaire husband over some stupid pride..."

"I heard it's because she couldn't get pregnant. The Lancasters probably kicked her out..."

"Yes, yes, he is." Helena stood up and moved to grab Evelyn's hand, oozing fake affection. "Now listen, honey, your father is in a terrible mood. Talk to him nicely. Don't talk back. Divorce is such a messy business, you really shouldn't make rash decisions..."

Evelyn smoothly pulled her hand away, avoiding the touch. "I'm aware."

She turned and headed for the grand staircase. From behind her, she heard Samuel's exaggerated stage-whisper. "Mom, look at her acting all high and mighty. What a bitch..."

"Hush!" Helena snapped softly. "Keep your mouth shut."

Evelyn didn't look back. She took the stairs one by one until she reached the heavy oak door of the study. She raised her hand and knocked twice.

"Come in," Stephen's voice barked from inside.

Evelyn pushed the door open. The study was massive, an entire wall dominated by bookshelves lined with pristine, unread leather-bound volumes. Stephen sat behind a sprawling mahogany desk, reviewing a stack of documents. Seeing her, he tossed the papers aside and pulled off his reading glasses.

"Sit," he commanded, pointing to the leather chair opposite him.

Evelyn sat. They stared at each other across the expanse of the desk. The room was deathly quiet, the silence only broken by the ticking of the grandfather clock.

After a long pause, Stephen let out a heavy sigh. "Evelyn, what the hell is going through your head?"