Divorcing My Husband Over His Stepsister's Secret novel Chapter 332

Anna’s POV:

My heart hearly stopped as I read Daniel’s message. Emily at Frank’s club? What was she thinking?

Is everything okay?” Blake asked, noticing my expression.

I need to go, I said quickly, gathering my things. “Something’s come up with Emily,”

Blake frowned, “What’s wrong with Emily?”

“Nothing,” I lied. “Just girl stuff. Can you drop me off at my car?”

He studied me for a moment, then nodded to his driver. “Take her wherever she needs to go.”

That’s not necessary-”

“I insist,” he said firmly. “It’s late.”

I relented, knowing arguing would only waste time. As Blake exited the car, he leaned in through the window.

“Remember your promise,” he said quietly. “No dangerous situations.”

The irony wasn’t lost on me, considering where I was headed. But I nodded

anyway.

Once Blake was gone, I directed the driver to Frank’s exclusive club. During the ride, I frantically tried calling Emily. The first few calls went through to voicemail, but soon her phone was completely off.

“Damn it, Emily,” I muttered, redialing for the fifth time. “Why is it always voicemail now?”

The driver caught my eye in the rearview mirror. “Everything alright, ma’am?”

‘Sir, could you please drive faster? My friend might be in trouble.”

As we sped through the night streets of Boston, I couldn’t help thinking: She must be looking for Ethan there. Emily’s usually so smart, how does she become such an idiot around men?

When we finally arrived at “Secret Space,” Frank’s club, I studied the exterior. It looked surprisingly ordinary–a plain building with minimal signage, nothing indicating the exorbitant membership fees rumored to be required inside.

“Michael’s team couldn’t get any information about this place for days, I murmured to myself. “No wonder it’s so well–protected.”

I stepped into the main entrance, finding an interior that resembled any upscale club–elegant but not ostentatious. What stood out were the staff–all female, tall and model–beautiful, dressed in tasteful but form–fitting uniforms.

After searching the main floor without finding Emily, I approached the reception desk for the VIP area called “Secret Space.”

“Excuse me,” I said to the perfectly groomed receptionist. “I’m looking for someone.”

The woman gave me a practiced smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but Secret Space doesn’t open until midnight. Please return later

‘I just need to find someone. I won’t disturb your business.”

Her expression remained unchanged. ‘I apologize, but rules are rules.”

here tonight?”

Thinking quickly, I pulled out my designer handbag and business card. “Ethan Hamilton is a friend of mine. I believe he’s

The transformation was immediate. Her smile warmed several degrees. “Ah, a friend of Mr. Hamilton. Which floor would you like to visit??

1/3

Which floor is Ethan on? I asked carefully.

The membership fee is $100,000 for the first floor, $300,000 for basement level one, $600,000 for basement level two, and $1.7 million for Basement les three, she recited smoothly.

Basement level three must be where Ethan is, I thought. But I can’t afford $1.2 million now.

I’ll take basement level two,” I said,

The receptionist escorted me to an elevator operated by a uniformed attendant. I noticed immediately that there were no buttons inside–only the operator could control our destination.

Clever system to prevent members from accessing floors the

haven’t paid for, I observed.

teeking of alcohol.

As we exited on basement level two, a woman stumbled into

“Melissa?” I gasped, recognizing Blake’s former assistant.

She blinked hazily. “Ms. Anderson? What are you doing here?

“Melissa, are you alright?” I asked, genuinely concerned.

Her eyes darted nervously to the receptionist behind me. “Is she with

I turned to the receptionist. “Thank you for escorting me. I’ve found a friend, so you can go now.”

Once the woman left, I helped Melissa to the nearest restroom. As soon as the door closed behind us, she straightened up, suddenly appearing completely sober.

“Ms. Anderson, what are you doing here?” she asked urgently. “Does Mr. Wright know?”

“Melissa, you were faking?” I shook my head. “I’m just looking for someone. I’ll leave as soon as I find her. And no, Blake doesn’t need to know.”

I studied her carefully. “You carry yourself differently now. Not as reserved as before.”

Melissa gave a bitter smile. “You need a certain presence to survive in a place like this.”

“Ms. Anderson,” she continued, voice low, “this place is complicated. You should leave as soon as possible. Would you like me to help you find whoever you’re -looking for?”

‘I appreciate the offer, but I can manage,” I replied. “I’ll find her and go.”

Melissa’s POV:

I couldn’t believe Anna Anderson was standing in front of me in Frank Hamilton’s club of all places.

“If you opened the reception computer upstairs, you’d find that the VIP list here includes about seventy percent of Boston’s wealthy and powerful,” I explained. “Frank’s influence in Boston is… complex.”

“You don’t work for Blake anymore?” she asked.

I laughed softly. “I still work for Mr. Wright, just in a different capacity. To be honest, my reassignment had something to do with you.”

She looked puzzled. “With me? How?”

“Mr. Wright didn’t want you involved in certain… situations. He was concerned for your safety.”

Ms. Anderson’s expression softened. “Sounds like he still values your work. I’m glad.”

2/3

“Let me help you find whoever you’re looking for,” I offered, “I’ve had enough to drink anyway. Who are you looking for?

Is Ethan Hamilton here tonight?”

I nodded. “There’s a section on this floor that’s restricted to regular members. That’s probably Ethan’s private area. I can take you there!

Anna’s POV: