The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 63

“She can handle it herself,” Christian replied, his tone remaining distant. He was still holding Leo, who had already fallen asleep in his arms.

Sebastian watched Evelyn walk away, his brows knitting into a frown. He wanted to follow her, but several businessmen immediately approached to greet him, blocking his path.

A fresh wave of murmurs rippled through the hall.

“Evelyn's situation in this family... is really humiliating.”

“But Mr. Thorne's words carried a lot of weight.”

“Looks like she isn't completely without backing...”

Penelope's face was livid. Glaring in the direction Evelyn had gone, she complained to Christian, “Look at her, throwing a temper tantrum over a minor accident. She has absolutely no sense of decorum for an event like this!”

Christian didn't say a word. He just stared at the spot where Evelyn had disappeared, his frown deepening.

He suddenly remembered how pale she looked, and the way she had covered her mouth to cough. Was she genuinely sick?

The thought flashed through his mind, but was quickly crushed by a surge of irritation. Why should he care about her? She was the one who agreed to the divorce. She was the one throwing this marriage away.

“Christian,” Lyra said softly, pulling him from his thoughts. “Leo is asleep. Should I take him to the lounge?”

“Yeah.” Christian handed the boy over to her before turning back to mingle with the guests.

He completely missed the knowing glance Lyra and Lydia exchanged the moment the boy was in Lyra's arms.

Lydia leaned close to her sister's ear, lowering her voice. “She drank the water.”

The amusement in Lyra's eyes deepened. “Keep it clean. Don't leave any traces,” she whispered back.

“Don't worry,” Lydia smirked, looking like a fox that had just caught a rabbit.

On the other side of the room, Sebastian finally managed to excuse himself. He was about to head toward the lounge when Lawrence Lancaster approached him from the VIP tables.

“Sebastian,” Lawrence smiled, patting him on the shoulder. “Thank you for defending Evelyn just now.”

She muttered a curse under her breath. Years of medical training caused her nerves to instantly pull taut on high alert.

She instinctively pressed two fingers against her wrist. Her pulse was racing wildly, chaotic and erratic—nothing like the sluggish heartbeat caused by alcohol. Besides, she hadn't even consumed enough champagne to feel a buzz.

Her vision began to blur, as if a layer of mist had descended over the room. A weak, numb sensation washed over her limbs, and a fine layer of sweat broke out on the back of her neck, sticking to her hair and making her heart pound with panic.

Stumbling, Evelyn gripped the armrest of the sofa, forcing herself to stay calm.

In her years studying medicine, her pharmacology professors had specifically detailed the characteristics of illicit drugs like this—rapid onset, short incubation period, with early symptoms including a sudden spike in body temperature and an erratic heart rate. This would quickly be followed by cognitive impairment and muscle paralysis.

She looked down at her palm. An unnatural flush was blooming beneath her skin, and her fingertips were trembling uncontrollably.

It was a potent aphrodisiac.

That glass of water... had been spiked.