The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 630

Lawrence and Christian remained seated in the deafening silence of the dining room. The housekeeper had already scurried in to remove the offending roast, replacing it with a simple plate of greens. The soup had cooled, and Christian picked up his bowl to take a reluctant sip. It tasted like absolutely nothing.

"Your mother's mental state is highly unstable right now," Lawrence stated, his tone so flat he could have been discussing the weather.

Christian put his bowl down and shot his father a look. "It's probably the stress from the Lyra Langford scandal. All the gossip spreading at the country club is getting to her."

"It has nothing to do with gossip," Lawrence interrupted sharply. His eyes drifted over Christian's face, lingering for a heavy, unreadable second before snapping away. "Eat your food. You look sickly."

Christian didn't argue. But a deep sense of unease settled in his gut. The way his father had just looked at him was deeply unsettling. It wasn't the look a father gave a son. It was the look of a man trying to confirm a dark suspicion.

Early the next morning, Penelope got out of bed long before the sun was fully up. She applied a flawless layer of light makeup, burying her exhaustion beneath high-end foundation, and slipped into a brand-new cashmere coat. She checked her reflection in the mirror. A swipe of rose-colored lipstick finally made her look like herself again—wealthy, untouchable, and composed.

Downstairs, Lawrence was already seated at the table, drinking his coffee. He paused when he saw her descending the stairs, his eyes narrowing slightly at her immaculate outfit. "Going somewhere?"

"Yes. I'm meeting some friends for shopping," Penelope replied smoothly. She picked up a piece of toast, took a single, uninterested bite, and dropped it onto her plate. "I won't be back for lunch."

Lawrence didn't ask anything else.

Penelope grabbed her designer handbag and walked out the front doors. Her chauffeur was already idling in the driveway. She climbed gracefully into the backseat.

"Where to, Ma'am?"

"Downtown. Take me to the luxury mall."

The sleek car glided through the iron gates of the estate. After taking a few turns away from the property, Penelope pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to Silas Whitmore.

[I'm on my way. Meet me at our usual spot.]

He replied almost immediately: [Got it.]