The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 629

Christian Lancaster arrived right at dinnertime.

Penelope was sitting on the living room sofa, mindlessly flipping through a high-fashion magazine. At the sound of the front door opening, she looked up. Christian walked in, shedding a heavy charcoal overcoat. He looked terrible—his skin was pale, dark circles shadowed his eyes, and he appeared to have lost even more weight.

"Mom," he greeted her quietly as he took off his shoes.

Penelope stared at his face, feeling a brutal, invisible hand twist painfully in her chest. She had looked at that face every single day for twenty-eight years, watching it morph from a wrinkled newborn into a man who towered over her. She had spoon-fed him, walked him to his first day of school, attended endless parent-teacher conferences, helped him pick a university, and arranged blind dates with society girls. She had spent a lifetime believing he was her son, a piece of her own flesh.

And now she knew the truth. He wasn't.

Her real son was out there somewhere. She didn't know where he was, whether he was dead or alive, or if she would ever lay eyes on him. The man standing before her, the boy she had nurtured for decades, was a complete stranger's child.

"Mom?" Christian asked, noticing her frozen expression.

Penelope snapped back to reality. She tossed the magazine onto the glass coffee table and stood up abruptly. "If you're home, go eat. Why are you just standing there?"

Her tone was biting and harsh. Christian blinked, completely taken aback. He didn't argue, simply turning and heading into the dining room.

The table was already set. Lawrence sat at the head, scrolling silently on his phone without bothering to look up. The housekeeper hurried out to serve them, placing a bowl of soup in front of each seat. Penelope sat down rigidly. She picked up her fork, took a small bite of the roast, and immediately dropped the silverware with a loud clatter.

"Who made this roast?" She slapped her hand against the table. "It's practically pure salt! Do you expect us to eat this?"

The housekeeper peeked out nervously from the kitchen, looking terrified. "Ma'am, I followed the exact same recipe I always—"

"The same recipe? This tastes absolutely nothing like it used to!" Penelope's voice rose sharply. "Do you all just assume I've gone soft lately, that you can feed me garbage and get away with it?"

Christian frowned, staring at her from across the table. "Mom, if it's too salty, just don't eat it. Ask her to make something else. Why are you losing your mind over a piece of meat?"

"Losing my mind?" Penelope whipped her head around to glare at him. "Is it a crime for me to get upset? Have I lost the right to even express an emotion in my own house?"