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!”

Megan knew it was the novelty of the

been married for three years and he had claimed her body night after night, in this moment, 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 the only thing he was

down, her voice soft but firm. “Sullivan, there’s no need for this.”

for what?”

the side of the

driver, knowing better, promptly took his leave, and they were left alone in the

face in a

the back of her head. He leaned in close, his voice barely above a whisper. “So, Mrs. Lowry, what

at this time? A charade of affection in public

away, unable to bear it. “You wanted me back, Sullivan. I’m here. What more do you want?”

he released her with a scoff. “What do I want?

was anything but

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

dinner, Sullivan retreated to his study to work, leaving the household staff worried for Megan. One whispered, “Men like a compliant woman. You might find life easier if you

the wine, pouring herself half a glass, and sipped lightly.

a moment, she let out a faint smile. “Being compliant didn’t make life

staff member didn’t dare to

modest drink, Megan ascended the stairs to the master bedroom, taking in the familiar surroundings.

five years or ten, as long

aware that Sullivan wouldn’t let the night pass easily. She hoped a

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

in a crisp white robe by the bed, flipping through a magazine under a single reading lamp–a clear signal of his intentions