The Tyrant's Stolen Bride-Chapter 142: Turn the Table

Lyra slowly slipped off her shoes. She lay back and adjusted her body until she was comfortable. The sofa was surprisingly soft—too inviting to resist.

Her eyelids fluttered closed, and before she realized it, she drifted off to sleep.

Back at the table, Rowan glanced around—Lyra hadn’t returned from the restroom yet. Her phone was left on the table.

"Rowan, where’s Lyra? We’re about to go," Monica asked, scanning the area.

"Go ahead. I’ll find her," he said, already rising to his feet.

He checked the restroom first. She wasn’t there.

Then he headed to the guest rooms—still no sign of her. Worry tightened in his chest, afraid she might vanish again.

The butler came up behind him, noticing how restless Rowan looked.

"Mr. Pierce... are you looking for Dr. Ashford?" Peter’s voice pulled Rowan from his thoughts.

He turned to the butler. "Yes. Did you see her?"

"She’s in a guest room upstairs. Allow me to guide you." Peter led Rowan to a room on the second floor.

He knocked on the door softly, but there was no answer. He creaked it open and peeked inside.

His eyes landed on the figure lying on the sofa and the shoes. Her shoes.

"Lyra..."

He stepped into the room quietly, moving closer to the sofa.

Lyra was sleeping soundly.

Rowan crouched beside the sofa, studying the soft lines of her face. He let out a slow sigh, realizing he had gone too far earlier.

"Lyra..." he called again.

She shifted slightly but didn’t wake.

Straightening, he bent down and carefully scooped her into his arms. Peter held the door open as Rowan carried her out of the room.

He thanked the butler and carried her to the car.

Lyra’s eyes sprang open, startled by the sound of the car door slamming shut.

From the back seat, Rowan shot the driver a sharp glare, making him realize his mistake for slamming the door too hard.

The driver quickly rushed to his seat and drove off.

Rowan rested a gentle hand on her shoulder when she tried to sit up.

"Sleep... I’ll carry you when we arrive."

Lyra pushed his hand away. She sat up, stretching slightly before shifting to create space between them.

Her hands clenched the fabric of her clothes as she turned her gaze toward the window, refusing to look at him. Rowan sighed inwardly. She was still angry at him.

The ride to the hotel didn’t take long. The car eased to a stop at the hotel entrance. Lyra didn’t wait for the driver to open the door for her. She stepped out and walked straight toward the elevator, leaving Rowan behind.

He followed a few paces behind, deliberately keeping his distance. Pushing her to talk right now or getting too close would only add fuel to the fire.

He tapped the keycard in and stepped inside the room.

Lyra was standing near the dresser, unfastening her jewelry, her movements clearly showing her displeasure.

He unbuttoned his suit, shrugged it off, rolled up his sleeves, then stepped out onto the balcony.

He lit a cigarette.

By the time he finished it and went back inside, Lyra was already in the bathroom. He showered in the other one, and the lights were already dim when he returned.

He slipped under the covers and gently pulled her into his arms.

She stiffened, making Rowan chuckle softly—she was pretending to be asleep.

"Still mad, hmm?"

He brushed the tip of his finger against her nose. It twitched slightly at the tingling touch.

"How do I make it up to you?"

Lyra still refused to open her eyes, even as she felt the tingling of his touch and the playful bite he gave her.

"Very well... then I’ll do as I please," Rowan whispered.

A small, wicked smile curled on his lips as his hand slipped beneath the fabric. She was wearing the lingerie as a reminder—she didn’t want him touching her.

Rowan chuckled. That wasn’t a problem to him. He’d removed it before.

He fumbled to undo the hook, but a small hand shot out and caught his wrist. She glared at him.

Lyra pushed him away and turned her back to him.

Rowan leaned closer, his voice low and teasing against her ear.

"Is this my punishment?"

His hand slid under the fabric, cupping the softness of her chest, and his lips brushed the back of her neck, sending a jolt of heat creeping through her.

Lyra spun to face him, pouting.

"Can you... not bother me?" she murmured.

She turned her back to him again, crossing her arms as if to shield herself.

Rowan chuckled softly, hugging her from behind anyway, resting his face against her shoulder and teasing her with quiet warmth.

"I’m sorry," he said quietly.

He checked his phone, then showed it to her.

"I handled it. The photos are here. Does this settle it?"

Lyra hesitated, thinking he might be lying—but she peeked anyway. A photo of Edris appeared on the screen.

Her eyes widened as she spun around and snatched the phone, scrolling through each picture one by one.

"When did you take these?" she asked, a smile tugging at her lips.

Rowan frowned, clearly annoyed that she was smiling at another man’s face.

"Theo asked for them from the wedding photographer," he explained, then shifted to lie back on the pillow.

"Thank you!"

"Erm..." Rowan responded, a little sulky at how she suddenly brightened after getting Edris’s photos.

"Delete everything after you send them to Pearl," he instructed coldly.

"Okay." Lyra made a pinky promise and pressed her lips to his cheek.

"You missed," Rowan growled playfully, expecting her to go for his lips instead.

Before she could react, he caught her, spun her around, and tossed the phone off the bed.

"Now... I’ve paid my debt. It’s your turn."

"Wait..." Lyra pressed her hand against his chest, trying to stop him.

"Your wound... last time I accidentally scratched you and it bled. Let me see it first." 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

"No need. It’s all fine."

Rowan gently removed her hand, leaned down, pressing his lips to hers.