All eyes were on Rowan as his fingers moved across the keyboard with clinical precision.
He had to move fast. It wasn't difficult for him to trace, but anxiety gnawed at him—even a second's delay could put Lyra in danger, and he couldn't bear that thought.
He ran a rapid sequence of commands, pulling logs and tracing the feed to track down any hint or trace left by the culprit.
Within seconds, the information appeared, flickering across the screen like static noise.
He showed them what he'd found—unauthorized connections from an external device. Rowan locked onto the IP address, traced from the device he believed the hacker had used.
The connection lasted only a few seconds, precisely the time needed for the hacker to erase the footage.
Damian chimed in as he tried to explain to the manager standing beside him.
"They connected to the hotel's system just minutes before Madam's recording vanished from the footage. That was their only goal—to erase the evidence."
The manager and the others watched in a mix of awe and confusion, wondering how something that looked like a simple malfunction could actually be the work of someone with malicious intent.
Whoever did this had made a huge mistake.
They thought they could hide it, pass it off as just another system glitch, leaving behind only traces the hotel staff would never notice.
They overlooked one vital truth—Lyra was the wife of Rowan Pierce, a man who never failed to uncover lies and make the deceiver pay.
Damian and Kane weren't surprised. They knew their boss was an expert at this. Still, they couldn't help but wonder who was behind all the chaos.
Kane was already itching to catch the person. He wasn't planning on handing them over quietly—a good, solid kick to the ass was definitely on his list.
From the information they gathered, Rowan confirmed that Lyra was still somewhere inside the hotel.
"She's still here," he said with quiet certainty, crossing his arms and leaning against the chair, his eyes fixed on the screen.
"We need to sweep the hotel rooms immediately. Station security at every entrance and exit," he ordered, his mind already piecing together the next move.
He wanted guards posted at every doorway so no one could leave—or escape. He was certain the one who had harmed or taken Lyra was still inside.
The manager's brow creased. "We can't do that. Guests will complain if we disrupt them."
Rowan leaned forward, his jaw tight. "So if something happens to my wife, will you take responsibility for it?"
The manager shook his head immediately, and the others exchanged tense glances.
"There must be another way, Mr. Pierce," the manager said carefully.
Damian knew his boss would take the harsh approach.
Military style to be exact. Because it was the fastest way to catch the culprit.
But he couldn't help feeling sorry for the hotel staff, who would be left to handle the complaints once it was over. They could even lose their jobs if the complaint turns out bad.
Damian leaned slightly toward Rowan, lowering his voice out of respect.
"Sir, perhaps we should access the complete guest list and look for any suspicious names."
"We don't have time for that. There are too many guests, and they could escape before we even finish checking," Rowan said sharply, dismissing the idea without hesitation.
The guard sitting with his back to the glowing wall of monitors turned at the sharp burst of static from the walkie-talkie on the desk beside him.
Kssht! "We've got a noise complaint coming from the second floor." Click.
He straightened immediately, fingers flying across the keyboard as he pulled up the second-floor feed.
Two women stood in the hallway, their gestures sharp and voices raised. He zoomed in.
"It's Madam!" Kane shouted, pointing at the screen.
Every head snapped toward the monitor, the group instinctively edging closer to the screen.
The manager's relief and disbelief clashed on his face. She'd been found no need to trouble the guests.
"Where is this?!" Rowan barked, striding closer to the screen. The light from the monitor making his reflection flicker.
"Level two!" the guard replied, his voice tight with urgency.
"Sorry, sir, but I need to go," he muttered. "World peace won't save itself."
But before he could stand, Rowan had already turned sharply, his expression unreadable.
They rushed toward the elevators straight to level two.
…
Nadia Klein was irritated. She'd been left alone at the conference after Lucas and Hudson failed to show up.
At first she was enjoying Rowan Pierce's presentation on stage. Not that she cared about the topic—she just wanted to look at him.
He was tall, handsome, and, most importantly, loaded. Thirty, give or take. Perfect for her twenty-eight. If Lucas didn't work out, Rowan would do just fine.
Nadia sank deeper into her little daydream, eyes fixed on him.
Then suddenly, Rowan walked off the stage halfway through his presentation.
The audience murmured in confusion, unsure what had just happened. He looked urgent, like something serious had come up.
A few minutes later, another presenter took the stage—a bald, older man with a round belly.
Nadia blinked, unimpressed.
Great. Just great.
Sleepiness began to creep in. She couldn't sit still. One moment she sat up straight, the next she slumped in her chair.
After a while, she went to the restroom, hoping the short break would wake her up. But when she came back, the same old man was still talking.
She screamed inwardly. This is so boring!
Nadia knew she was supposed to stay until the end as the company's representative. But sitting there alone felt completely pointless.
Then, a lightbulb moment. Excuse. She just needed a good excuse to leave.
With a sigh and a flick of her hair, she decided she'd had enough.
Rising from her seat, she grabbed her phone and held it to her ear, pretending to take an urgent call from absolutely no one. Without looking back, she walked quickly out of the hall.
She headed straight to the hotel, figuring Lucas must've been holed up there.
When she reached his room, the door opened before she could even knock.
Lyra stepped out—her hair a mess, dress wrinkled, and that half-dazed look on her face that said she'd either just woken up... or something else entirely.
Nadia blinked. Then her eyes narrowed.
Did she just have segg? Wait! That Lucas's room.
She couldn't even utter the word even in her mind. She refused to believe it, but Lyra's condition said otherwise.
Nadia's gaze lingered on Lyra's lips, swollen with a faint bruise at the corner—like they'd been a rough, passionate kiss.
Oh, you have got to be kidding me.
Her jaw tightened, irritation bubbling just under her skin. Lucas and Lyra? Really?
She'd even bribed a delivery guy to send Lyra a bouquet of rotten flowers, laced with the stench of cow dung that would start reeking an hour after delivery.
Hoping it would spark a fight and drive a wedge between them. But this was the exact opposite. Her plan had failed miserably.
Lyra walked right past her without so much as a glance, as if she didn't even exist.
That was the last straw. Blinded by anger, Nadia didn't think, she just reacted.
In a flash, her hand shot out, yanking Lyra's hair so hard it sent her stumbling backward.
"Ack!" Lyra winced as pain throbbed in her head. The sudden assault stunned her.
She'd just finished dealing with Lucas and was already exhausted and now, out of nowhere a crazy woman was waiting for her in the hallway.
Lyra started to question what day it even was. Clearly, the universe wasn't on her side today.
She steadied herself, one hand pressed to her temple, and glared at the woman clutching a handful of her hair.
"Are you insane?" she hissed. "Do I look like your stress ball or something?"
Nadia's face twisted with rage, her eyes blazing.
"You cheap slut! Flirting with every man you see, acting innocent just because you've got a pretty face—don't you have any shame?"
Lyra blinked at her, too stunned to even respond. "Oh, for God's sake," she muttered.
"Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something?" Lyra replied dryly.
Most of the guests on the second floor peeked out from their doors, becoming unwilling witnesses to the scene.
They'd heard every word Nadia shouted.
And with Lyra looking the way she did, disheveled and flushed, everyone believed Nadia's accusations.
They stared at Lyra with disgust and judgment in their eyes.
The door to Lucas's room swung open.
"What's going on here? Klein? Why are you here?" Lucas asked.
Everyone there turned, eyes widening at the sight of Lucas—just as disheveled as Lyra.
Whispered murmurs spread through the hallway as people began drawing their own conclusions.
Lucas and Lyra had just shared a passionate moment... and Nadia was the poor victim who'd walked in on it.
Lucas's brow furrowed. He heard exactly what they were whispering, and every assumption was wrong.
"What are you doing here, Klein? I didn't call for you," he said sharply.
Nadia's stomach twisted at the sight of him—his hair mussed, shirt creased, and a few buttons undone, revealing faint marks on his skin.
"Of course," Nadia snapped, unable to hold herself back. "So this is why you didn't show up at the conference? You were with her?"
"What the hell, Klein? That's none of your business," Lucas shot back, confused by her tone. His brows drew together.
This old secretary acting like she was someone important to him.