Rewrite Her Thrilling Life (Lillian and Sebastian) novel Chapter 383

**The Billionaire’s Last Obsession series 383**

**Chapter 383: Lillian Harrington**

A palpable hush fell over the grand hall as all eyes converged on the figure that had just materialized from the shadows, a wave of confusion washing over the assembled guests. Among them, Ryan sat frozen, his heart racing as disbelief coursed through him. What on earth was his boss doing here, of all places?

Vivian’s gaze was riveted on the girl, a familiar face that sent shivers down her spine. That visage… it was like a ghost from a long-forgotten nightmare, one she had tried desperately to bury in the recesses of her mind.

Henry stood abruptly, his voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and dread. “You… who are you?” His question hung in the air like a dark cloud, heavy with unspoken fears.

A chilling smile crept across Lillian’s lips, her confidence palpable. “What’s this? Don’t tell me you don’t recognize me? I heard you even ventured all the way to Solara in search of me. And now, suddenly, I’m just a stranger?” With a swift motion, she removed her baseball cap, unveiling a face of stunning beauty that seemed to illuminate the dim hall.

“You… you’re Lillian,” Henry stammered, the truth crashing over him like a tidal wave. The resemblance was unmistakable; it was far too familiar to dismiss as a mere coincidence.

With a playful little shrug, Lillian replied, “That’s right. I happened to hear that you were hosting a charity auction tonight in memory of your late wife. So, I thought I’d make an appearance.” Her tone was deceptively casual, but the weight of her words hung heavily in the air.

As she gracefully approached the stage, she picked up the violin, her eyes glistening with a mixture of nostalgia and longing. “I heard you loved your wife deeply, so much so that it pained you to even speak her name all these years. I must say, even I found myself touched by such profound devotion.”

Her gaze shifted towards Vivian, and the warmth in her voice evaporated, replaced by a sharp edge. “But I’m perplexed. If you cherished your wife so dearly, why did you marry the woman beside you almost immediately after Catherine’s passing? Perhaps you’d like to clarify that for us.”

Henry’s eyes widened in horror, his throat constricting as he struggled to find his voice, but no sound emerged.

Just then, a loud crash echoed from the entrance of the lounge, drawing everyone’s attention. Mr. Morgan stood there, visibly trembling, his eyes locked onto the girl on stage. “You… you are… you are!” His voice quavered, thick with emotion.

Lillian met his gaze with a frigid stare. “You’re mistaken. I am not Lillian Sinclair. I am Lillian Harrington.”

But Mr. Morgan stepped closer, his expression resolute. “No. You are Lillian Sinclair. Your face is identical to your mother’s. Before, I had a sliver of doubt. But now—now I am certain. You are her.”

“No! I’m not. She died long ago. I am Lillian Harrington!” Lillian’s voice rose, sharp and unyielding, her glare fierce as she confronted him.

The entire hall was enveloped in stunned silence. Catherine’s daughter—long believed to be dead—was alive. And now, she had returned.