CHAPTER 58: LAST-MINUTE BODYGUARD

The morning arrived and Rowan slowly opened his eyes, one hand pressing against his head as a dull headache throbbed behind his temples.

His mind was still filled with the image of Lyra coming to him, haunting his thoughts and refusing to fade.

His hand fumbled across the bed for his phone as he tried to call home.

At this hour, Lyra usually hadn’t left for work yet—a tiny hope that he might hear her voice.

But the call went unanswered, and the silence left him frustrated. He grunted and pushed himself up, heading for the shower.

After he finished getting dressed, Rowan called again. Mere was usually already there in this hour, but the result was the same. No one answered.

Feeling uneasy, he walked straight for Damian’s room next door and pushed the door open without warning.

"Clear my schedule for the entire day."

Damian looked confused by the sudden decision, but Rowan didn’t wait for a response. He grabbed the car keys off Damian’s desk, clearly intending to drive himself.

Damian didn’t have time to stop him as Rowan took long strides toward the private elevator. Only Kane was fast enough to chase after him.

"Kane, go after boss—now. He’s going to drive himself!"

Kane had just finished getting ready, still smelling faintly of cologne, his hair neatly combed.

They both knew Rowan was still a little drunk from the strong liquor he’d been drinking, and the uneasiness only made it worse.

If he drove in that state, someone could end up dead on the road.

The private elevator chimed open, and Rowan stepped out, nearly colliding with the doors.

From down the hall, Kane came running up behind him. "Boss, where are you going?"

"Home," Rowan replied flatly. He was in a rush.

"Just let me drive."

Kane already had a spare key in his hand—hurried past Rowan, slipped into the driver’s seat, and started the car.

The car tore through the streets, heading straight for the Arlington penthouse.

Rowan swiped his card and pushed the door open. The first thing he noticed was Lyra’s work shoes—they were there. But two of her other pairs were missing.

His brow tensed, and a deep unease coiled in his chest.

The moment he stepped inside, the house felt off. No smell of food, no hint of laundry—just silence.

"Lyra?"

He went straight to the kitchen, and something caught his eye.

Lyra’s medication and a medical leave slip lay on the counter. He picked them up and read through them.

"So she had been on medication... and on leave?" he murmured to himself.

His gaze dropped to the date. It was the last day Meredith had answered his call. He dragged a hand through his hair, guilt hitting him hard.

"She knew."

Lyra had heard his voice during that last call—and she had known he was lying.

Rowan rushed upstairs and eased the bedroom door open.

A suspicion was already forming when Lyra’s clothes were scattered across the bed, the wardrobe room door wide open.

He went straight into it to check. His heart dropped when the spot empty—her suitcase was gone.

His hand curled into a fist, the sense of losing control hitting him all at once.

The punch crashed into the mirror, shards of glass slicing across his hand—yet he barely felt the pain.

"Where did she go?" Rowan murmured, the words laced with regret.

The day he saw those photos, his emotions shattered. He was terrified Lyra would become a victim again, just like that night at the hospital in Bellwyn.

He had thought things would be better if he stayed away from her for a while until he calmed down.

Yet the result was still the same, even after he tried to be cautious.

Rowan dragged himself to the bed and slowly slumped back against it, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

Only now did Rowan realize he had underestimated his wife. She was capable of running away from him.

After a moment, Rowan convinced himself it still wasn’t too late. He just had to apologize.

With unsteady hands, he reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and dialed her number.

But an automated operator answered—her number had been deactivated. She knew he could track her, that way.

And there was no way she would go back to the Hale estate or her father’s house after doing that.

She must have gone somewhere far away. Besides, she was the kind of person who always hid her problems from her family.

Rowan rushed to his study. He had his own way of tracking her location.

...

"How did you know I was here?" Lyra asked, amused that Martin had managed to find her.

They sat at a small beachside stall, where the ocean stretching out beside them.

The sea breeze was cool and calming but Lyra didn’t enjoy it. The sight of the yacht only reminded her of Rowan.

Earlier...

She had already been planning to leave Coralbay. As she loaded her suitcase into the trunk, someone honked at her from across the road.

The window eased open, revealing the man she had hired to investigate the file.

"Don’t call me an investigator if I don’t even know where to find you." Martin grinned, noticing her sunglasses and scarf—she had taken his advice well.

The oversized sunglasses gave her a more mature look.

Martin handed the envelope back to Lyra.

"So, who is he?" he asked. "Owen Arden?"

Martin was clearly being nosy, but he was also curious about why Lyra had wanted to dig into such an old case.

And why hadn’t she asked her husband to look into it instead? Rowan Pierce was far more experienced than he was.

"A friend... maybe."

Martin simply nodded. Her short answer told him she wasn’t ready to share more.

Just then, the stall owner came over and set down their coconut water and banana fritters.

They spent some time eating, and Lyra gave him her new number so he could issue the invoice later.

"You’re not changing your number after this, are you?" he asked.

Lyra laughed and shook her head. "No. This is just temporary. I’ll go back to my old number when return to Mistvale."

"Are you running away from home?" He teased her, only to draw out that warm smile of hers.

And something stirred quietly in his chest—she really was easy on the eyes.

"Not running," Lyra sighed. "Just taking a little me time."

"Well, if you’re not heading back to your husband yet, you might need a bodyguard," Martin said, his voice turning serious.

"Someone’s been looking for you, I don’t know who and this isn’t a joke."

"Oh..." Lyra frowned.

Where was she supposed to find a bodyguard on such short notice?

"Do you know anyone I can hire right away?"

"Of course. I can give you his number right now."

Lyra’s eyes lit up as she pulled out her phone, ready to save it.

"+14X-XXXX-XXX..." Martin started reciting the number.

Her brows slowly knit together when his name popped up on the screen.

"This is your number."

"Yep. I’m the bodyguard you can hire immediately."

He chuckled at the way she narrowed her eyes. Honestly, he enjoyed that annoyed little look a bit too much.