The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 587

The Duke finally paused, catching his breath. He stood there, the leather whip still gripped tightly in his hand, staring down at his son sprawled on the concrete floor. His face was entirely devoid of expression—no fury, no vindication, nothing. He looked at Pierre the way one might look at an inanimate object.

"Leon is dead," he stated coldly. "He was my son. You are too. How do you expect me to choose?"

Pierre slowly raised his head. His face was drenched in sweat, a thin line of blood tracking down his lip from where he had bitten through the skin.

"You want to kill me?" His voice was so ragged and weak it was barely a whisper.

The Duke stared at him in silence for a very long time. Then, he uncurled his fingers and let the whip drop. The heavy leather hit the floor with a dull thud, and Pierre's body instinctively flinched at the sound.

"Killing you would be letting you off too easy," the Duke said.

He turned on his heel and strode toward the heavy iron door.

Just as he reached the exit, Pierre's broken voice rasped from the darkness behind him.

"Father."

The Duke stopped but didn't bother to look back.

"I didn't kill him."

The Duke's fists tightened at his sides. He didn't say another word, simply pulling the door open and stepping out into the harsh corridor. The heavy iron door slammed shut, the deadbolt dropping into place with a sharp, final click.

Out in the hall, the assistant was still waiting. The moment the Duke emerged, he bowed his head, too terrified to even make eye contact.

"Your Grace, Mary has been trying to reach you." The assistant carefully held out a ringing phone. "She's called three times already."

The Duke snatched the phone and pressed it to his ear.

"What is it?" His tone was perfectly level, as if nothing had just occurred in that basement.

"Please, I'm begging you, let Pierre go!" Mary's panicked, tearful voice pierced through the receiver. "He didn't kill Leon, he really didn't—"

"And how exactly do you know that?" the Duke cut her off.

The line went quiet for a fraction of a second. "He is my son. I know him. He wouldn't dare—he doesn't have the stomach for something like that—"

"Your son." The Duke repeated the words slowly, the chill in his voice dropping the temperature in the room. "He is also my son. And so was Leon."

A suffocating silence hung over the call. When Mary finally spoke again, the tears were gone, replaced by a desperate, hardened edge. "You're going to kill him? You're actually going to kill him?"

"I never said I was going to kill him."

"Then why do you have him locked up? Why are you whipping him? Did you really think I wouldn't find out?" Mary's voice trembled violently. "I've been married to you for years. I gave you two sons. Pierre is your own flesh and blood. If you dare—"

"Enough." The Duke didn't raise his voice, but the terrifying authority radiating through the line instantly silenced her. "I'm not dead yet. I still make the rules in this family."

He hung up.