Missing Mrs. Lowry: The Billionaire’s Wakeup Call

Chapter 136

He swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.

A tangle of clothes, shoes, and stockings lay discarded on the floor, a testament to the heated moment.

Megan, slightly tipsy, felt the room spinning around her. She couldn’t help but wrap her arms around Sullivan’s sturdy back for support.

Just then, the smartphone on the nightstand burst into life.

It was Megan’s phone.

She reached out to grab it, but Sullivan was quicker. He suspected it was Begonia calling to share some mundane slice of life with his wife, but upon unlocking the phone, he was met with an unfamiliar yet strikingly young and attractive WhatsApp profile picture.

[Girl, I miss you. Can we meet up?]

Sullivan’s expression darkened like a gathering storm. He fixed his gaze on Megan and questioned, “Someone from the bar? You added him on WhatsApp?”

In truth, it was Lucia who had done the adding.

around him, her voice sultry and defiant, “Yeah! A young, handsome guy! Sullivan, you can play your flirty games with Cressida, so why can’t I have someone on my phone… to cheer me up? And Sullivan, if you can’t handle it, we

the pillow,

an urge to strangle her with his bare hands, but she was his Mrs. Lowry. He couldn’t do that to her. Instead, he would ensure that her heart and lips

was wild, his fingers interlacing tightly with hers, locking her down as if she would never escape his grasp, as if she could never fly away from the palm of his

She knew Sullivan too well. His care and consideration were not about love; they were about

or boasted a healthy body or a prestigious family background, then she wouldn’t stand a chance. To him, she was nothing more

now, she didn’t

was just a matter of time. Once he grew tired of her, she would be free… Free as a bird in the vast sky, where past acquaintances would become strangers, and a simple “long time no see” would be an insult to their

her head

the nightstand. Not the old one that one she had burned – but

a composite created at Sullivan’s

photo, her slender fingers gripping the frame tightly. It was almost as if she and Sullivan were

striking Sullivan on the forehead. Crimson blood trickled down his face –

at her, and Megan trembled slightly. The alcohol

“Sullivan, if I had a choice, I would wish I had never fallen