She's Too Busy Winning to Watch Him Cry novel Chapter 62

Chapter 62

Chapter 62

“Maisie, come sit down,” a classmate urged, pulling her onto the sofa right in front of the elaborately decorated cake.

“Who ordered this?” Maisie asked, her body completely rigid.

“Cora did.”

“What’s wrong? Do you hate it? Cora swore you’d love this design.”

Maisie forced a dry laugh, still clinging to a sliver of hope. “When you ordered it, did anyone happen to see you?”

Lyra must have been hiding in some corner of the bakery, right?

Yes, she was a total stalker.

She used to follow Rowan around everywhere, tracking his every move and constantly pretending to bump into him by coincidence.

“It was just the two of us and the staff in the shop. Cora even picked out the design herself. Come on, Maisie, make a wish before the icing melts…”

“Let’s all sing Happy Birthday!” someone announced, flipping the light switch and plunging the private room into darkness.

Cora slid onto the sofa right next to her, leaning in entirely too close.

A chilling wave of dread seeped into Maisie’s skin, making the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

With a girl flanking her on either side, she felt completely boxed in, positioned directly in front of the looming cake.

Her wealthy socialite friends started singing, but the cheerful melody echoed in her ears like a morbid

death knell.

“Make a wish.”

The room fell into a sudden, expectant silence as everyone smiled, waiting for the birthday girl to blow out the candles. Maisie’s teeth chattered in sheer terror, her body feeling as if it had been doused in a bucket of ice water. Suddenly, her eyes widened in horror, and a bloodcurdling scream ripped through the air.

Someone frantically flipped the lights back on. The cake was completely smashed, and Cora’s hands were covered in a gruesome mix of frosting and blood.

Furious, Maisie grabbed Cora’s wrist. “What is your problem with me? Why would you do something so psycho!”

All the other girls turned deathly pale. “What is going on?”

“What just happened?!”

Maisie viciously kicked the destroyed cake off the table, sending a sharp, glinting pocketknife clattering onto the floor.

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The sudden revelation sent a shockwave of terror through the room.

Staring at the exposed blade, every last drop of color drained from Maisie’s face.

“You’ve always looked down on me! You targeted me constantly, and you even got my financial aid scholarship revoked! Why does someone like you get to…”

Before Cora could finish her bitter rant, Maisie shoved her away in pure disgust and sprinted out of

the suite.

That evening, Lyra didn’t get home from work until nearly ten o’clock.

Delilah Fairchild was waiting for her in the living room. “Why are you working so late every night?”

“Yeah, it’s just been busy,” Lyra replied, setting her designer bag on the console table.

“Vivienne Jameson’s daughter came by looking for you.”

Lyra paused, her movements stalling. “Did she… look like she was in one piece?”

“Yes, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.” Delilah thought back for a moment and confirmed that Maisie had looked perfectly fine. “Why? Did you two get into a fight?”

“No,” Lyra said flatly. “But from now on, if she comes looking for me, tell her I’m not here.”

Just then, Martha the housekeeper walked over, and Lyra repeated the exact same instructions to

her.

Without another word, she headed upstairs.

Delilah frowned, finding the whole situation incredibly bizarre. Lyra used to dote on Maisie, always bringing her back expensive souvenirs from her trips abroad, even when the girl treated her with total disdain. Why was the dynamic suddenly reversed?

Still, she chose not to press the issue.

Her kids were adults now, and she knew that prying too much would only make her seem overbearing.

The internet was full of people complaining about suffocating, controlling parents, and Delilah occasionally browsed modern parenting articles to keep herself in check.

Once back in her bedroom, Lyra noticed several new friend requests from Maisie on her social medial

app.

Because Lyra had ignored the first one, Maisie had spammed her with a few more frantic requests.

Without even reading the attached messages, Lyra tossed her phone onto the mattress.

A moment later, the phone buzzed with an incoming call from an unknown number. Lyra sat on the edge of the bed and quietly answered.

“Miss Fairchild, I’ve forwarded the photos to the designated contacts exactly as you instructed…”

“Perfect, thank you,” Lyra said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Text me your account info, and I’ll wire your payment right away.”

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“Thank you, Miss Fairchild. It’s a pleasure doing business with you.”

Lyra ended the call and soon received a text with the details. She quickly logged into her banking app, transferred the funds, and permanently deleted the message.