Chapter Fifteen

A KISS FOR SILENCE.

The party ended quicker than Lyra had expected. The drive home was wrapped in silence, with her gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window.

Ryker sat beside her, his attention entirely on her.

His piercing eyes watched her intently, as though studying her every move. “What were she and Marcus discussing?”

“You should stop staring,” Lyra said, her voice low and tired. She didn’t even bother to glance his way.

Ryker smirked, the mischievous grin she’d come to associate with him spreading across his face. “I can’t stare at what’s mine?” he teased, his voice laced with mockery and arrogance.

Lyra’s jaw clenched. He was relentless, always pushing, always testing.

“How long do you plan to keep up this stubborn act, Jane?” he asked again, his tone challenging now.

Her fingers tightened around her dress as she fought the urge to lash out. “Can we not do this tonight?” she finally managed to say, her voice strained with exhaustion.

“That’s going to be a problem, sweetheart,” Ryker replied smoothly. He leaned back in his seat, feigning boredom. “This car ride is far too quiet, far too cramped. I could use some entertainment.”

His words were like fuel to the fire already burning inside her.

He knew exactly how to get under her skin, how to provoke her until she cracked. He wanted her to break, to give in, to finally lose the calm she clung to so tightly.

Lyra bit her bottom lip, trying to suppress the simmering anger building inside her. “This man was unbearable.”

She couldn’t stand him—his voice, his smug expression, his endless taunts. If she had known this arrangement would turn out like this, she would have walked away. Forget the landlady’s threats of eviction.

Anything would have been better than dealing with him.

But Ryker didn’t stop. He never stopped.

Her nails dug into her palms. She knew what she was about to do wasn’t wise—probably something she’d regret—but if it would silence him, even just for a moment, it would be worth it.

She would take the risk.

Lyra turned to face him abruptly, her eyes blazing with frustration. Ryker raised a brow, his smirk deepening as if to say, ‘What now?’

Before he could utter another sarcastic comment, she leaned forward, closing the space between them, and kissed him.

It wasn’t soft or hesitant; it was quick and intentional, a blow of anger and instinct. Her lips pressed against his with just enough force to startle him into silence.

For a split second, Ryker froze, his cocky behavior shattered by the unexpected move. But it didn’t take long for him to recover. She could feel the shift in his body, the surprise melting into something else entirely—something dangerous.

He reached up, his hand curling around the back of her neck, deepening the kiss before she could pull away. His lips moved against hers with a confidence that sent a jolt through her, and she realized too late that she had completely underestimated him.

Lyra’s plan to shut him up had backfired spectacularly.

Her mind screamed at her to retreat, to stop this before it spiraled out of control, but her body betrayed her. The warmth of his touch, the intensity in the way he kissed her—it was overwhelming, consuming, and far too tempting.

Finally, she broke away, her breath coming in short, uneven bursts. Ryker’s hand stayed on her neck, his thumb brushing against her skin, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Well, well,” he said, his voice lower now, rougher. “That’s one way to keep me quiet.”

Lyra glared at him, her cheeks flushed. “Don’t read into it,” she snapped, trying to regain her composure.

Ryker chuckled, leaning back in his seat as though nothing had happened. But the gleam in his eyes told her otherwise.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he drawled, his voice thick with amusement, “I’m reading ‘everything’ into it.”

She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, turning away from him to stare out the window. Her heart was pounding, her mind racing, and she hated that he could see right through her.

The rest of the ride was quiet, but not the kind of silence Lyra had hoped for.

The car pulled up at the mansion, the imposing structure glowing under the night sky. Before Ryker could say a word, Lyra grabbed the door handle and unlocked it.

She stepped out without hesitation, slamming the door shut behind her.

She didn’t look back as she walked purposefully toward the grand entrance. She didn’t need to. Lyra already knew what expression would be playing on Ryker’s face—a smug, self-satisfied grin that would infuriate her further.

Inside the house, Mrs. Hargrave, the ever-composed housekeeper, greeted her at the door with her usual stoic expression.

“Welcome home, Mrs. Blackwood. How was the party?”

Lyra noted the formality in her tone, the careful detachment that always accompanied their exchanges. She wasn’t surprised.

She didn’t expect the household staff to suddenly warm up to her, not when they saw her as an outsider, someone who didn’t belong in Ryker’s world.

“It was fine, thanks for asking,” Lyra replied curtly, her voice polite but detached.

“Do you need anything? I can ask one of the maids to bring it to your room,” Mrs. Hargrave offered, her words crisp and professional.

“No, I’m fine. I’ll be off to my room now. Goodnight,” Lyra said, brushing past her toward the grand spiraling staircase.

“Goodnight, Mrs. Blackwood,” Mrs. Hargrave called after her, but Lyra didn’t bother to turn around. She was too drained to engage any further.

As Lyra disappeared upstairs, Ryker remained in the car, his head resting against the seat, a low chuckle escaping his lips.

The memory of her unexpected kiss and the way she had stormed out of the car replayed in his mind, and he couldn’t help but laugh again.

She was fiery, unpredictable, and endlessly fascinating.

“Lyra, you keep daring me to cross that line,” he murmured to himself, loosening his tie and letting his eyes close for a moment.

The faintest smirk tugged at his lips as he sat in the quiet car, savoring the challenge she had unknowingly issued.

Lyra unlocked her room door and stepped inside, shutting it firmly behind her. Tossing her purse onto the bed, she began pacing back and forth, her thoughts spinning wildly.

“What was she thinking?”

What had possessed her to believe that kissing Ryker would silence him? Of all the ways she could have handled the situation, why had her brain chosen that?

Her fingers instinctively lifted to her lips, the memory of his kiss replaying in her mind. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but... “damn it,” he was a good kisser.

Lyra groaned, dropping her hand. She couldn’t keep doing this.

She couldn’t keep letting herself get pulled into his games. This entire arrangement had been a bad idea from the start, and if someone was going to get hurt, she already knew who it would be.

Her.

Shaking off the thought, she moved toward the bed, grabbing her purse. She rummaged through it, pulling out her phone. With a quick press of the power button, the screen lit up, and she impatiently watched it boot up, her heart thudding in her chest.

As soon as the phone was ready, she scrolled to her contacts, finding the one she had saved as ‘Lyra’—a small safeguard in case anyone ever went snooping through her phone.

She dialed the number, biting her nails anxiously as the call rang out.

“Come on, Jane, pick up,” she muttered under her breath, pacing again.

No answer.

Lyra tried again. And again. On the third attempt, she finally heard the click of the line connecting.

“Hello?” Jane’s voice came through, calm and soft.

“Jane, hi,” Lyra greeted, her voice rushed.

“Lyra? Is everything okay? Why are you calling so late?” Jane asked, concern evident in her tone.

Lyra hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath. “Jane, let’s meet tomorrow,” she said firmly.

“We need to talk.”