CHAPTER 53: THE PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR

Dante leaned back in his chair, one leg hooked over the coffee table, scrolling through the photos the guy he hired to keep tabs on Lyra had sent him.

He paused at one photo, sliding two fingers apart on the screen until Lyra’s face filled it.

She was much clearer here than in the picture Camela had shown him before. His index finger glided across the screen, following the outline of her face with quiet curiosity.

"Her eyes... he murmured. "How much do you think these eyes are worth?"

He shoved the phone toward his right-hand guy, who was busy with his card game. He bit down on the toothpick between his teeth, gathering his cards with one hand as he gave the phone a quick glance.

"Eyes like that?" he muttered. "Worth plenty. Who’s she?"

The man eventually set his cards down and scooted closer to Dante. He leaned in, bending low so he could study the picture properly.

"What the hell—why obsess over her eyes when you could take the whole girl?" he hissed, voice low and grimy.

"A virgin like that? Dante, she’d fetch hotter than contraband in a drought."

Dante snorted. "She’s no virgin. Someone’s already claimed her... for now."

"Nah... she looks untouched. Send her to Zuraqi—she can get her hymen patched up. You could make a fortune off her."

...

Nora studied Lyra from the side, watching her a little too closely. Jane came up behind her and tapped her shoulder.

The two middle-aged nurses exchanged a look, raised brows, a small lift of their shoulders—the silent signal they used whenever something felt off.

"You see it?"

"Yeah, I notice it too."

"Any idea why?"

"No clue..."

And something was definitely wrong with Lyra. She’s been spaced out all week, and it’s getting worse.

The staff here said she missed her husband. It had been a week since he stopped coming to pick her up. They claimed he was out of town, but her behavior didn’t match their story.

Nora couldn’t just stand by and watch her like this, so she decided to approach Lyra.

"You daydreamer..." Nora called playfully, giving her shoulder a gentle tap.

Lyra flinched and spun around, only to find a familiar faces behind her.

"Oh, you startled me, Nora... Jane." Lyra pressed a hand to her chest.

Nora noticed the faint, dried traces of tears at the corners of her eyes. It made her wonder—why hadn’t Lyra said anything? She usually told Nora whenever something was weighing on her.

"If you’re not feeling well, you can take a break," Nora suggested.

Lyra’s expression dimmed. Her eyebrows felt too heavy to lift into a smile. She nodded and walked off without a word, leaving Nora and Jane exchanging a glance.

She stepped into the restroom to splash water on her face and pull herself together.

After she walked out, she stopped in the hallway, fished her phone from her pocket, and dialed her therapist.

The call rang for a while before Dr. Lewis finally picked up, and he answered with a snort before muttering something under his breath.

"Hello..." Lyra greeted him.

"Hello there. I’m guessing you want to see me. You’re not the type to call when everything’s fine."

Lyra held her phone a little farther from her ear when Lewis started rambling in that high-pitched voice of his.

Lyra brought the phone back to her ear once he finished his sentence.

"Um... yeah. I think I need to see you. Are you busy right now?"

"Right now, yes, but you can come by after four. Does that work for you?" he said, sounding more grounded than a moment ago.

"Okay. See you... bye." Lyra hung up and walked back to her office.

Lyra eased into her chair, leaned forward, and rubbed her face with both hands.

Then she stared at the envelope on her desk. She had already checked everything herself, but she still wasn’t sure whether the documents were genuine or not.

Lucas wasn’t the type to lie, especially not about something that would damage his own name.

And one more thing weighed on her—where had Rowan gone?

It had been a full week with no calls, no messages, and he hadn’t come home once.

When she finally reached out to Kane, he brushed it off, saying Rowan was always like that when he got busy.

Later, when Lyra said she planned to stop by the office, Kane casually told her Rowan had flown overseas.

Something about it felt off.

Lyra pressed her teeth against her thumb, scrambling to figure out her next move. After a moment, she made up her mind, she needed to deal with her problems one at a time.

Right now, she decided to deal with the issue right in front of her.

Lyra grabbed the envelope and headed straight for the Mistvale Police Station.

The officer at the front desk looked up when she opened the door.

"Good afternoon. How can I help you?" he said, gesturing for Lyra to take a seat.

"I have a document. Can you check if it’s genuine?" Lyra handed him the envelope.

The officer glanced through it and gave a small nod.

"It looks genuine to me, but this is an old format. I can’t confirm if it’s officially valid. Sorry, ma’am."

He passed the envelope back to her.

"Oh..." Lyra murmured, a hint of disappointment in her voice. She stood up slowly, unsure of where to go next.

He couldn’t stand seeing her leave in that state, so he called after her.

"Ma’am, wait—" he said, hurrying a few steps closer.

"If you need a private investigator, I can give you a number. You’ll have to contact him yourself."

Lyra nodded immediately. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate it."

And she got lucky—the private investigator agreed to meet her right away after she called.

She stepped into the café, the place they had agreed to meet. She took a seat at the table he mentioned.

The envelope resting tightly in her hands while she waited for the private investigator to show up.

She was lost in her thoughts when someone suddenly tapped the table in front of her.

"Lyra Ashford... or should I call you Mrs. Pierce?"

That rough voice jolted her. She looked up into an unfamiliar face. How did he know she was Mrs. Pierce? She hadn’t told him yet.

Lyra stood up immediately and offered him a handshake.

"Just call me Lyra."

"Martin Taylor. The officer already mentioned that to you, didn’t he?"

"Yes."

After that brief, awkward introduction, they both sat down.

"So... how did you know I’m Mrs. Pierce?" she asked. "I only gave you my name."

Martin held off on answering as the waiter came by. He ordered a drink, then finally responded.

"You really don’t know?"

Lyra shook her head in response.

"Ever since you broke off your engagement, your name’s been everywhere."

Lyra’s brows lifted slightly as she leaned back. This stranger knew about her—even about the engagement.

She frowned. "Hold on... what are you trying to say?"