The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 633

The safe house was located in the desolate outskirts of Paris—a bleak, solitary structure constructed of gray stone. There were no neighbors for miles. A massive, dead sycamore tree dominated the front yard, its skeletal branches clawing desperately at the overcast sky.

Two heavily armored black SUVs rolled to a stop at the front gates. The doors swung open, and four men in tailored black suits stepped out. They wore dark sunglasses and earpieces, the ominous bulges under their jackets making it blatantly obvious they were heavily armed. They swept the perimeter with clinical efficiency. Only after confirming the area was completely secure did one of them pull open the rear door of the second vehicle.

Sebastian Thorne stepped out. Dressed in a sharply tailored black overcoat and matching sunglasses, his face was a mask of terrifying indifference. The biting wind whipped at the hem of his coat, but he didn't flinch, walking purposefully toward the reinforced door. The gravel crunched loudly beneath his expensive leather shoes.

One of the guards went inside to clear the interior, emerging seconds later to give a sharp nod.

Sebastian walked in.

The living room curtains were drawn completely shut. A single, dim lamp cast a sickly yellow glow over the cream-colored sofa. Alissa Valois sat there, her knuckles bone-white as she clutched a glass of water. She wore a baggy, dark sweater, her hair pulled into a messy knot. Her face was completely devoid of makeup, and the dark, bruising exhaustion under her eyes suggested she hadn't slept in days. The second Sebastian walked through the door, she instinctively shrank back into the cushions.

It wasn't just him she feared. It was the lethal force accompanying him. The four bodyguards filed in silently; two planted themselves firmly by the door, while the other two secured the windows. Not a single word was spoken. Not a single muscle twitched out of place. The suffocating tension in the room plummeted to sub-zero instantly.

Sebastian removed his sunglasses and sat down gracefully opposite her. Without the dark lenses, his eyes were even colder. The last time Alissa had seen him, she had been foolishly trying to seduce him. The memory felt sickeningly pathetic now.

The man sitting in front of her possessed absolutely zero warmth. He wasn't smiling. He was a weapon that had been unsheathed.

"Talk," Sebastian commanded. He didn't raise his voice, but in the dead silence of the room, the single syllable struck with the force of a physical blow.

Alissa took a shaky breath and placed the water glass onto the coffee table. Her hands were trembling so badly she had to hide them in her sleeves.

"Mr. Vance..." she started, her voice cracking. "That isn't his real name."

Sebastian's expression didn't shift a millimeter, but his index finger twitched slightly.

"Explain."

"Logan told me," Alissa stammered, desperately trying to keep her voice from completely breaking. "One night, I asked him about Vance's origins. I asked if Vance was his real family name, if he was American or..." She trailed off, terrified of sharing the intimate details.