Rowan straightened and turned to Damian.
"Continue with the rest. I'll be leaving early today—my wife isn't feeling well. Sorry, everyone."
He had just said something that stunned everyone in the room, yet no one uttered a word.
Click—the door closed.
Silence held the room in place for one long second. No one dared breathe until they were sure he was gone.
Then—voices.
Soft at first, then rising like a tide breaking loose.
"Did you hear that?" one staff member whispered to the colleague beside him.
More heads turned, questions forming faster than answers.
"Wait—our boss is married? Since when?"
"Married. As in actually married?"
A dramatic gasp from the far end of the table. "No!" a female staff member cried, dropping her head into her hands. "My heart—"
No one even looked at her. Everyone else was still processing the real surprise.
Damian rubbed his forehead, already exhausted.
Rowan had dropped several calm statements that somehow detonated the room—and then simply walked out, leaving the aftermath to him.
"Alright. Enough. We still have work to finish."
…
A gentle, melodic chime drifted through the penthouse, polite yet impossible for Lyra to ignore.
"Who could that be?" she murmured, frowning. It couldn't be Rowan—an owner never rang the doorbell when coming home.
She walked to the door and peered through the peephole. A woman stood there.
Pressing the intercom. "Can I help you?"
The woman frowned faintly before answering, her tone polite yet cool. "Good evening. I'm here for the maid service, as per Mr. Pierce's request."
"Oh." Lyra blinked, caught off guard. For a moment, she hesitated. "Could you come back later? He isn't here at the moment."
This is Lyra after the kidnapping incident; she will be cautious around her. There's no way she would open the door, especially when she's alone with a stranger.
"Um—who are you?" the woman asked unexpectedly, completely ignoring Lyra, which made her pause.
The maid service agent cared who she was in this house.
Lyra was bewildered. It was none of her business.
Just then, her phone buzzed in her hand, and she glanced at the screen.
"Hello, Lyra," came his deep, familiar voice. Her heart skipped a beat.
Clearing her throat, she replied, "Hey… perfect timing. Your maid service just showed up."
"Oh, that must be Meredith," Rowan said easily. "Let her in. By the way, what should we have for dinner?"
"Anything's fine," Lyra murmured.
"I'll be there in about thirty minutes."
After saying their goodbyes, Lyra exhaled and unlocked the door.
The young woman stood there, her faint frown making her look almost stern. Lyra stepped aside.
"Please, come in," she said, forcing a friendly tone.
The maid passed her, shoes scuffing lightly against the polished floor, and glanced around the penthouse with casual curiosity.
Then she asked, almost abruptly, "So… you are one of his family members? Or…?"
She let the question hang, implying that Lyra should understand her incredulity.
Lyra bristled.
Though she plastered a cheery smile on her face. "Yes. I'm his wife."
The maid blinked and stumbled slightly back. "His wife?" she echoed, her voice catching with surprise.
Lyra arched an eyebrow, sensing something unusual in the maid's reaction. Hopefully Rowan would come back ASAP, so she could avoid a full interrogation from this lady.
"I think that's enough questions. Start your cleaning so you can finish quickly," she said, waving her hand to shoo the maid away.
The maid hesitated for a moment, then she stormed toward the bathroom.
Lyra left her be. She grabbed a cold drink, praying it would keep her sane.
Returning from the kitchen later, she could hear the annoyed maid scrubbing the toilet, muttering under her breath.
A sudden thud, followed by a clatter, echoed from the floor. Lyra raised an eyebrow but paid it no mind—as long as the maid got her job done.
A few minutes later, Rowan appeared through the front door.
Footsteps pounded from the laundry area, racing toward the living room. His frown deepened when he noticed the unfamiliar woman.
"Welcome home, sir," she said, relieved, finally able to see the man she had been wishing to see.
"Who are you? Where's Meredith?" he demanded sharply.
"Hi, I'm Ivy. Um... I replaced Mere," she stammered, trying to explain.
Rowan's gaze hardened, his voice icy. "Who allowed this?!"
He quickly searched for Lyra and saw her slumped on the sofa, fast asleep. Then his gaze returned to the intruder.
"Get out!" Rowan shouted, pointing toward the door.
She froze, trembling under his piercing stare.
Rowan immediately pressed his phone to alert security.
His eyes never left her as Ivy collapsed to the floor. "No, sir… please, let me stay. I just want to see you," she pleaded.
He thought this woman was crazy enough to act like this. Anger rising, "I don't know you. Get out!" Rowan barked.
The security guard looked startled. "What's happening?"
"Take her out. Now. Don't ever let her in," Rowan ordered, jabbing a finger toward the door.
"No! Sir, please… don't do this to me," Ivy's voice trembled as the guards guided her toward the exit. It faded quickly behind the closing door.
Rowan closed the door with a long sigh, shaking his head at how things could have spiraled out of control—and aware it could have endangered Lyra.
He quickly got to her, scanning her from head to toe to make sure she was unharmed.
Lyra stirred, her eyes fluttering open. "Oh," she yawned. "You're back… sorry, I fell asleep."
Seeing her serene face, Rowan finally relaxed and pulled her into his arms. If anything had happened to her, he would never have forgiven himself.
Lyra froze, surprised by his sudden actions.
"Did anything happen?" she asked cautiously, still half in a dream.
Lyra glanced at the clock and around the penthouse—no sign of the maid. "She left already?"
"Yes, and she's not Meredith," Rowan replied.
Lyra's eyes widened in shock, letting out a small sigh. "So… who was she? She was so annoying, asking me who I am, you know?"
Rowan shook his head. "I don't know her." But deep down, he could sense her intentions were… improper.