The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 541

Lyra slammed her phone face down onto the mattress and lay back, staring blankly at the ceiling. A bitter realization washed over her—in her entire life, no one had ever done anything like this for her. No grand proposal, no diamond ring, no sea of flowers, no fireworks. Her life had been nothing but endless calculations, manipulations, and dirty transactions. She squeezed her eyes shut, and a single tear slipped down her cheek.

Her phone buzzed again. She picked it up. It was a message from her mother.

[Leo has a fever. He won't stop crying, and he's begging for you. When are you coming back?]

Lyra stared at the text, her grip on the phone tightening until her knuckles turned white. Leo was back home with her parents. She hadn't seen him in far too long. She typed back: [Buy some fever medicine. I'll be back in a few days.]

She tossed the phone aside, rolled over, and buried her face in her pillow. The fabric quickly soaked with her quiet sobs.

In Geneva, Switzerland. Inside a modest apartment.

Lydia Langford sat on her sofa, the television quietly humming in the background. She, too, had been watching the live broadcast of the proposal. She watched Evelyn glowing on the stage, watched Sebastian kneel, and fixated on the breathtaking pink diamond. A slow, chilling smile crept onto her face—it wasn't a smile of joy, but something entirely unreadable and twisted.

Her phone vibrated. She picked it up to find a message from Pierre Astor.

[Mission accomplished perfectly. You don't need to do anything else for now. Just wait for him to come to you.]

Lydia stared at the glowing words but didn't bother replying. She tossed the phone onto the coffee table and muted the television. The apartment settled into a heavy silence, broken only by the whistling of the wind outside.

She stood up and walked to the window. The sparse, quiet city lights of Geneva stretched out before her, a stark contrast to the vibrant energy of Paris. She stared out into the darkness, her mind churning with dark, calculated thoughts.

Back at Trocadéro Square in Paris.

The massive crowds had dispersed. Crews were already dismantling the stage, rolling up the red carpet, and boxing up the floral arrangements. Lance stood to the side, supervising the chaos with a walkie-talkie in hand.

"Don't throw away any of the flowers. Boss's orders—send them all to the estate."

A crackle of acknowledgment came through the radio. He clipped the device to his belt and glanced over at the center of the stage. The two of them were still standing there, wrapped securely in each other's arms.

Lance chuckled, shaking his head, and walked away. He stepped beyond the police barricades and lit a cigarette. The night breeze caused the glowing cherry to flare brightly in the dark.

His phone buzzed. It was a text from Sebastian.

[Great work tonight. Your bonus is doubled.]

Lance grinned and typed his reply: [Thank you, Boss. Wishing you and Dr. Sullivan a lifetime of happiness.]

He pocketed his phone and took a long drag of his cigarette. He tilted his head back, gazing up at the brilliant, unclouded stars for a long time.

On the stage, Evelyn was still nestled comfortably against Sebastian's chest. She held her left hand up, mesmerized by the ring. The pink diamond scattered the ambient light into a thousand tiny rainbows.

"Sebastian."

"Yeah."

"How much did this ring actually cost?"