Missing Mrs. Lowry: The Billionaire’s Wakeup Call

Chapter 123

Megan descended the stairs and slid into the car, her gloomy aura unmistakable. The driver, noting her mood, spoke in a hushed tone, “Ma’am, shall we head home now?”

Seated silently, Megan gazed through the window at the night, the sparse neon lights flickering in the darkness.

Suddenly, she spoke softly, “Leo, I need a walk. Take the car back, will you?”

The driver, Leo, furrowed his brow. “I can’t do that, ma’am. It’s the dead of night, and for you to be out alone… Sir would be worried sick!”

Megan offered a faint smile. “How would he know?”

Leo clamped his mouth shut, remembering the whispers among the servants about the estate’s master, who often didn’t return home at night. It was impossible he knew nothing. Yet, Leo was genuinely concerned, so while Megan walked alone on the streets, he trailed behind in the car.

Megan lost track of how long she walked.

At two in the morning, she found herself beside the city’s graffiti wall, a kaleidoscope of silly love confessions. She crouched down, gently touching a small spot in the lower–left corner.

[Megan loves Sullivan forever.]

Staring quietly, her eyes moistened. Her youthful affection for Sullivan had been truly precious, yet after all these years, cherished by no one, it had nowhere to belong.

In the still of the night, concerned she might catch a chill, the driver urged her to return.

refuse this

settled into the car, which was warm,

home, her phone displayed a message from Sullivan. He was apologetic

next morning, a top–tier luxury jeweler delivered a

the quality and size, it

Sullivan for remembering their anniversary

message, she tossed

crisis, but Megan no longer cared

next time the couple met was

returned at half–past four, his black Bentley pulling into the estate. An observant servant rushed to inform Megan on the third floor, her

was practicing

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09:53

Chapter 123

paused, contemplating that her husband was likely home

found it ironic but still left her piano

to the second floor, she encountered

met, the

been days since their last encounter, and Sullivan looked more haggard, a testament to Cressida’s dire condition and his exhaustive