She's Too Busy Winning to Watch Him Cry novel Chapter 141

Liam barely stepped into the hallway before Lyra practically dragged him into the nearest restroom. "Miss Fairchild? What are you doing?"

Lyra slammed the door shut behind them and locked it.

As Liam tried to pull away, she lowered her voice to a harsh whisper. "Don't move!"

She had no time for his nonsense. Reaching out, she grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket. "Are you out of your mind? Are you trying to get me killed? Don't you have your own clothes to wear? Why on earth are you wearing this?"

"Miss Fairchild, what are you doing? It tickles!" Liam squirmed, bursting into a fit of nervous laughter. "Seriously, what are you trying to do?"

"I'm helping you take it off, obviously. Why are you wearing a jacket that doesn't belong to you?" Lyra frantically tugged at the tailored fabric, desperate to get it off him.

"But I heard the guys talking about how expensive this brand is. Half my class wants to borrow it," Liam protested.

"Yours? Since when is this yours?" With one final, forceful yank, Lyra managed to pull the jacket off. She immediately crumpled it into a ball. "Didn't Martha ever teach you not to play dress-up in other people's clothes?"

The moment she tossed the crumpled jacket aside, a sharp click echoed through the small space. The door swung open from the outside.

Liam froze in terror, instinctively shrinking behind Lyra, his shirt half-unbuttoned and rumpled.

Rowan stood in the doorway. His tall, imposing frame filled the space, and his dark, predatory gaze swept over the scene. "What exactly is going on here?"

Lyra didn't dare glance at the jacket discarded on the floor. She stepped forward, deliberately blocking his line of sight.

"Rowan? Did you need to use the restroom?"

"The plumbing in this one is broken. Let me show you to the one on the second floor."

Lyra brushed past him to lead the way. Rowan lingered for a second, casting a freezing glance over his shoulder at Liam.

The sheer coldness in that look made a shiver run down Liam's spine.

Lyra didn't dare look back. She only let out a quiet breath of relief when she heard the steady, unhurried rhythm of Rowan's footsteps following her.

Once they reached the second floor, she practically marched to the guest bathroom. "Here we are," she said flatly.

She turned to leave, but Rowan blocked her path. He looked down at her, his expression unreadable. "Hold on. We need to talk."

Lyra frowned. "About what?"

The ice in Rowan's eyes thawed slightly. "Grandpa Alistair heard a rumor that Jasmine used to be your friend. Now he's convinced she has severe character flaws."

Alistair's exact words had been brutal: If she's capable of stealing her best friend's fiancé, she's no good.

"No need," she replied, her face a mask of indifference. "I know the way to the Jameson estate perfectly well."

Keeping a polite distance between them, they headed back downstairs. The moment they stepped into the dining room, every eye at the table zeroed in on them.

Charles and Victoria exchanged a subtle, knowing look.

The silence stretched for a few awkward seconds before Victoria recovered. "Rowan, come sit back down. They just brought out a few new dishes you haven't tried yet. Have a taste."

Arthur immediately echoed the sentiment, eager to keep the peace.

It wasn't until the Jamesons finally left that Caleb pulled Lyra aside. "What were you two doing upstairs?"

"Nothing. He couldn't find the bathroom, so I showed him the way."

Caleb studied her face for a long moment but eventually let it drop.

Just then, Lyra's phone buzzed with an international call.

She answered it immediately, slipping into fluent, flawless French packed with complex corporate jargon. Caleb's French wasn't nearly as polished, so she didn't even bother stepping away for privacy.