The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 592

The corridor was so quiet that Penelope could hear the faint, electrical buzz of the lighting fixtures.

Julian stared at Lawrence, and Lawrence stared right back. They stood facing each other, barely two paces apart. The assistant stood rigidly behind Lawrence, keeping his head bowed as if entirely deaf to the conversation.

Hidden behind the corner, Penelope pressed her trembling hand hard against her mouth, too terrified to even breathe.

Julian broke the silence first.

"I apologize, Mr. Lancaster," he said, his tone as smooth and detached as if he were addressing a random client. "I'm afraid I don't know the man you're talking about."

Lawrence said nothing.

Julian continued effortlessly. "I've heard Ethan Lancaster was your younger brother, and that he passed away many years ago. I wasn't even born when he died. How could I possibly know him?"

His voice was remarkably flat. It didn't sound like a defensive explanation; it sounded like a man reciting a dry, irrelevant fact.

Lawrence scrutinized him for a long moment.

"It's surprising you know the details so well," Lawrence said. His voice wasn't loud, but the undertone was heavy with lethal suspicion. "You weren't born when my brother died. Yet, the way you speak about him—"

Lawrence paused, letting the silence stretch like a wire.

"You don't sound like you're talking about a stranger."

The corner of Julian's mouth twitched. It was a microscopic shift, almost invisible. But Penelope, watching from the shadows, caught it. It wasn't a smile. It was the calculated, suppressed reaction of a man whose nerve had just been struck, but who refused to flinch.

"Mr. Lancaster, you're fully aware I work as an attorney," Julian replied smoothly. "It's my job to be informed about certain histories."

Lawrence just stared at him.

"Is there anything else?" Julian asked politely. "If not, I really must be going. My colleagues are waiting for me."

He shifted his shoulders, preparing to step past.

Lawrence didn't budge.

"Julian." The polite veneer instantly dissolved from Lawrence's tone, leaving behind a cold, hard edge of absolute certainty. It was the tone of a man laying his cards on the table. "Spare me the legal rhetoric. Some secrets refuse to stay buried forever."

The oxygen seemed to vanish from the narrow hallway. Penelope felt her pulse pounding directly in her throat.

Julian stopped walking. He slowly turned his head, meeting Lawrence's gaze.

"Mr. Lancaster." Julian's voice had fundamentally changed. The polite, professional detachment was completely gone. In its place was a chilling, absolute absolute calm—like a frozen lake masking a violent undercurrent.

"You're overthinking things."

He let the words hang in the air for a second before delivering the final blow.

"Isn't Christian currently investigating me? Why don't you just ask him?"

Lawrence's pupils shrank to pinpricks.

Before Lawrence could formulate a response, Julian cut him off.

"Good day, gentlemen."