The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 583

She stumbled down the steps and collapsed onto an empty bench. Her mind was absolute chaos, a violent storm of terrifying memories surging to the surface.

Leon Astor's death.

It had happened just a few days ago. She had been sitting quietly in her apartment, reading a textbook, when a breaking news alert flashed across her phone screen—"Leon Astor of the Astor Family passes away due to crash complications."

She had stared at that headline for several agonizing seconds.

Leon Astor. Dead. Pierre Astor's older brother. The man who used to be her sister's lover.

Her first reaction hadn't been sorrow; it had been sheer, suffocating terror. She was terrified that Pierre was involved, terrified that Pierre was in danger. Frantic, she had pulled up Pierre's number and dialed.

It rang a few times before he finally answered.

"Leon is dead?" she blurted out.

Pierre's voice was deathly low, as if he were trying to suppress a volatile explosion. "Yeah?"

"What happened? Were you involved in this?"

"Stay out of it," Pierre cut her off sharply. "Don't go asking questions about things that have absolutely nothing to do with you."

Clutching the phone, Lydia's panic only spiked. "I'm not just being nosy. I'm worried about you. Where are you? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Pierre paused, his tone turning grave. "But I can't contact you for a while. The Old Lion is thoroughly investigating Leon's death, and he's tearing everything apart. If he uncovers our connection, we're both dead."

"Then what am I supposed to do?"

"Keep going to class. Live your normal life. Don't do anything out of the ordinary," Pierre commanded. "If you're ever in real trouble, go find Victoria Sutton. I sent you her contact info."

"Victoria?"

"Yes. She knows how to handle things. As for everything else, just lay low until I reach out to you."

The call had abruptly ended.

Lydia had stared at the name "Victoria Sutton" glowing on her screen for a very long time. She hadn't called her. Not because she didn't need help, but because she was too terrified. Pierre had explicitly warned her to keep her distance and ensure no one linked her back to Victoria.

She was supposed to be the Duke's pure, untainted muse—innocent, naive, completely sheltered from the dark realities of their world. She couldn't afford to have any shady connections, couldn't risk anyone digging into her real past.

So she had endured it. She hadn't made the call. Not even once.

But now—sitting on this cold campus bench, with the warm sunlight beating down on her back—she felt entirely frozen from head to toe.

She might actually be pregnant.

She might be carrying the Duke's child.

If she really was pregnant, what was she supposed to do all alone? Pierre had forbidden her from contacting him, and as for the Duke... she had no idea how the ruthless patriarch would react. He had promised her, "I'll take responsibility," but she wasn't naive enough to blindly trust the word of a man like him.

She needed someone. Someone who could actually help her. Someone who wouldn't immediately sell her out.

Her trembling hand slipped into her pocket and pulled out her phone. The screen lit up as she scrolled through her contacts, swiping relentlessly downward. Victoria Sutton. The name was buried so deep she barely recognized the entry.