Lyra's heart sank as she stepped out of the Bentley alone. Rain had stopped, but dark clouds still loomed overhead, matching her mood perfectly. Percival's absence felt like a shield ripped away just when she needed it most.
"I'm sorry, ma'am. Mr. Covington asked me to see you safely inside," the driver said, retrieving several elegantly wrapped gift boxes from the trunk.
Lyra nodded stiffly. Just twenty minutes ago, Percival had received an urgent call about a crisis at Covington Industries. The regret in his eyes had seemed genuine when he'd promised to join her as soon as possible. Now she faced the wolves alone.
Standing on the porch was the entire Moreau family—Lachlan's cold stare, Colette's barely concealed sneer, Orla's triumphant smirk, and Jasper's mocking eyes. Only Mrs. Moreau offered a warm smile.
"Lyra, darling!" Mrs. Moreau stepped forward, embracing her tightly. "Where's your husband?"
