The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 545

Her phone buzzed. She picked it up to see a message from her mother.

[Leo's fever broke. He keeps asking when you're coming back.]

Lyra stared at the words, typed a few letters, and then deleted them. She tried again, and deleted them again. Finally, she sent a single phrase: [In a few days.] She put her phone away, turned, and headed for the elevator.

Downstairs, the lobby was bustling with people. She walked out the hospital doors and squinted against the harsh sunlight. Instead of hailing a cab, she headed toward the subway station. She wasn't going back to the hotel.

Paris, Sacred Heart Medical Center. The ICU ward.

Leon lay in the bed, his face still swollen, tubes snaking across his body, and one leg suspended in the air. His eyes were closed, his breathing heavy. Lyra stood outside the glass window, watching him.

A nurse walked over. "Ma'am, visiting hours are over."

Lyra didn't move. "I just want one look."

The nurse gave her a sympathetic glance but didn't press the issue, turning away to leave.

Lyra stood at the window, staring at Leon. She remembered the first time they met at a business reception back home. He had approached her, and she had naively thought he was genuine. Over her three years in France, he had indeed helped her, but he shouldn't have pushed her into a corner time and time again. She never wanted things to go this far...

Now, here he was, half-dead. She was leaving Paris soon. But before she did, she needed to make sure he disappeared for good.

Her fingers slowly curled into fists. She remembered his hands tightening around her throat, how he had forced her to set up Evelyn, and all of his vicious threats. As long as this man lived, she would never know peace. She glanced at the clock on the wall, then up at the security camera at the end of the hallway. The angle was poor; there was a blind spot. She committed it to memory.

She turned and walked away, the click of her heels light and steady against the floor. Stepping out of the hospital, she was hit by a chilly night breeze. She stood on the steps, looking up at the sky. There were no stars, no moon—just heavy, suffocating clouds.

She pulled out her phone, scrolled to an unsaved number, and typed a quick message.