Missing Mrs. Lowry: The Billionaire’s Wakeup Call

Chapter 79

Megan stood by the floor–to–ceiling windows, peering out in silence.

She watched as Cora descended the steps, collapsing in tears on the curb. She had never seen Cora like this, not even on the day the Quigley family fortune crumbled, when Cora had managed to keep her composure.

Behind her, Blanca couldn’t help but murmur softly, “Mrs. Lowry, do you have regrets?”

Megan lowered her gaze. After a moment, she offered a faint smile. “Regrets? I don’t do regrets.”

How could she have regrets when there had been no choice?

Megan had stayed home for half a day. When she left in the afternoon, she carried only a small suitcase.

As dusk fell, the sky was a canvas of colors, the sunset paintin

painting a spectacle of beauty.

A luxurious black limousine glided through the wrought–iron gates, circling to a stop on the villa’s driveway.

Sullivan stepped out from the shadows to o

open Megan’s door.

He called her Mrs. Lowry. His handsome face broke into a charming, easy smile. “Lila’s whipped up a crab casserole. Looks delicious. Perfect to pair with a bottle of red wine later!”

was the novelty of

Sullivan was filled with a sense of conquest, having maneuvered her back into his world. Any man would swell with pride, and Megan was certain that crab casserole wasn’t

down, her voice soft but firm.

need for

Sullivan pressed her against the side of the

took his leave, and they were left alone in the vast courtyard. Bodies

face in a flattering light.

head. He leaned in close, his voice barely above a

we playing at this time? A charade of affection in public and cold indifference

bear it. “You wanted me back, Sullivan.

lingered on her. After a moment, he released her with a scoff. “What do I want? You

anything

tense, not the anticipated warm reunion, and the bottle of red

Sullivan retreated to his study to work, leaving the household staff worried for Megan. One whispered, “Men like a

pouring herself

smile. “Being compliant didn’t make life any easier before.”

dare to speak further.

to the master

for five years or ten, as long as

long. She slipped into a bathrobe, preparing for a bath, aware that Sullivan wouldn’t let the night pass easily. She hoped a relaxed body might make

an hour, Megan felt limp and relaxed. She blow–dried her

and now lounged in a crisp white robe by