Missing Mrs. Lowry: The Billionaire’s Wakeup Call
Chapter 102

Chapter 102 

After their intense encounter, Sullivan released Megan and headed into the bathroom for a shower. 

When he emerged, he was the picture of elegance in a crisp suit, while Megan was a disheveled mess, even too exhausted to move. 

Sullivan had been rough with her, and it showed. He gave her a disdainful glance, then he snorted and left 

the room. 

Settling into his sleek black Bentley, he didn’t drive off immediately. Instead, he lit a cigarette and took a long, contemplative drag. 

Truth be told, the encounter hadn’t been all that satisfying for him either. Megan had been uncomfortable, and it had dampened his spirits too. Still, there was a perverse thrill in the psychological domination. 

Just the sight of her pained expression had excited him, and he couldn’t shake it off. 

The thin smoke swirled around him, adding an air of mystery as he pondered over his wife and her words. 

She had asked him if he was ready to love her, to invest emotionally. 

Sullivan chuckled at his own self–deprecation. 

Raised in a household devoid of warm emotions, he didn’t know how to love, nor did he have the desire to. Yet, he was fixated on Megan’s affection for him, and he couldn’t understand why. 

Perhaps it was her diary that had sparked this obsession. 

He wanted to keep her close, to watch her descend into devotion, to see her love with abandon. For Sullivan, it was a luxury. 

And luxury always comes at a high price. 

With a shake of his head, Sullivan cleared his mind of the turmoil and drove to his company. 

Their relationship had turned frosty after the incident. 

Sullivan hadn’t come home for days, and he wasn’t staying at the company either. The gossip columnists had a field day when they caught him with Cressida, who was gazing at him adoringly from the passenger seat of his car, while Sullivan remained expressionless. 

Rumors flew that he had spent a whopping $80 million on a love nest for him and Cressida, which had convinced everyone that no matter how stunning Alena, the big–screen star, was, she couldn’t compare to the innocent allure of Cressida, the “girl–next–door“. Men, it seemed, preferred simplicity. 

Even Cressida found herself fantasizing about the $80 million mansion, longing that Sullivan had really bought it for her. 

Dahlia advised her to play it cool. 

“Cressida, darling,” Dahlia said to her, “that Alena from Crossover City has disappeared off the radar. It seems Mr. Lowry’s fling with her was just a brief encounter, a moment’s folly. And that other one at home doesn’t seem to be of much use either. So Mr. Lowry seems to hold you closest to his heart, after all” 

Cressida, with a coquettish smile, replied, “It’s because I was the one who woke him from his coma all 

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Chapter 102 

those years ago. His feelings for me are tinged with gratitude.” 

Dahlia laughed along, then lowered her voice to remind her daughter, “Cressida, make sure you never tell anyone about the switcheroo. If word gets out, we could lose everything we’ve climbed so hard to achieve 

Cressida paled, chastising her mother, “Mom, what are you talking about? I didn’t pull any switch. It was me who woke Mr. Lowry; it had nothing to do with Megan. I never pretended to be her!” 

“Right, right, my mistake!” Dahlia quickly agreed. 

Cressida’s mood lifted once more. 

Everyone pitied Megan, feeling that her position as Mrs. Lowry was a tragic one, 

Lucia called again, railing against Sullivan as a “tramp” and labeling Cressida a “siren“… How else could she remain at Sullivan’s side with her looks? 

Megan chatted with Lucia for a bit before hanging up. 

Just then, a servant’s voice came from the door, “The car is ready, ma’am. Are you leaving now?” 

‘I’ll be down shortly,” Megan replied. 

The servant hesitated before adding, “Bianca’s people just delivered some of Mr. Lowry’s clothes. They said he’ll be staying out for a while longer and asked you to prepare a few sets of clothes for him to take.” Megan read between the lines. She didn’t get angry with a husband who didn’t come home, 

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