The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 97

Dusk bled into the city skyline like spilled ink, and streetlights flickered on one after another, tracing the city's silhouette into a brilliant river of stars. Lyra merged the white Porsche—a gift from Christian—into the heavy evening traffic.

The faint, sweet scent of gardenia air freshener lingered in the cabin, jarring terribly with Lyra's tightly wound nerves. Her hands gripped the steering wheel, her palms slick with sweat and her fingertips icy cold. The GPS directed her toward an old, repurposed creative park on the west side of the city—The Willow Club was buried deep within that seemingly artsy but incredibly shady district.

Red light.

Lyra hit the brakes, her gaze drifting aimlessly out the passenger window. That diverging road led straight to the luxury apartment complex on the east side. She remembered from the tracking files that Evelyn lived there now.

A crazed thought suddenly spiked in her mind: flip a U-turn and go confront Evelyn right this second.

But to say what? Interrogate her about the media leaks? Beg her for mercy? Or... drag her down into mutual destruction?

A fierce surge of adrenaline made her grip the steering wheel until her muscles ached. A voice deep inside her screamed—go find her! Tear off that eternally calm, composed mask of hers! Make her taste what sheer panic and agony actually felt like!

The light turned green.

An impatient honk blared from the car behind her. Lyra snapped back to reality, took a sharp breath, and slammed on the gas pedal.

No. She couldn't go.

Facing Evelyn now would only ruin her own plans. That woman's mind was as deep and unfathomable as the ocean; confronting her blindly would only expose more weaknesses and send her straight into a trap. Wasn't Evelyn's greatest weapon that placid, dead-eyed stare as she watched people drown in her calculated schemes?

Lyra bit down hard on her lower lip, a ruthless glint flashing in her eyes. If she wanted to win, she had to be colder and infinitely more vicious than Evelyn.

Lyra gathered her courage and pushed the door open.

A man was already seated at the tea table inside. He wore a gray high-collared suit and looked to be in his fifties. His face was so painfully average that he would completely vanish in a crowd, but his eyes were so razor-sharp that they practically demanded you look away. Resting on the table in front of him was a black velvet box, about the size of a palm.

"Have a seat, Ms. Langford." His voice was incredibly raspy, grating like sandpaper.

Lyra sat down across from him, her eyes involuntarily locking onto the black box. Her heart began to race all over again.

"The goods are right here," the man said, sliding the box toward her, though he made no move to open it. "Just as you requested, the azure pill is for your target, and the rose pill is for you. The effects are incredibly potent, guaranteed to kick in within twelve hours. That rose pill will maximize your chances of conception to the absolute peak."