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Chapter 26: 9pm or 1am?

Author: Ray Michael
last update publish date: 2026-04-26 02:40:04

Tyson's phone beeped and he looked at the screen. They'd just sent him a daily report on Lyra. He had to double down on security after everything that happened—secret though, so she doesn't feel watched and uncomfortable. She looked ravishing in the pink suit dress she wore today.

After the accident, Tyson had convinced Lyra that it was just a faulty brake, no one had tampered with it.

When in fact, someone did. Someone wanted his wife dead. Someone wanted Lyra dead. But she didn't have to kn
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  • Left at the altar, Claimed by his uncle   Chapter 58: Bullshit!

    As they walked back, Tyson was still holding on to Lyra.She pretended her hair needed adjusting, and pulled her hand away from his. He glanced at her briefly, but didn't say a word.They reached their seats, and Tyson pulled out Lyra's chair.“Thanks,” she murmured, lowering herself quickly, so as not to draw any more attention towards them. Alex's grip tightened around his cutlery. While Fiona still had her suspicious look.Tyson sat too.Dinner felt a tiny bit less tense. But only for Lyra. “My dear, how's working at Helixion? I hope it's not too demanding?” Grandpa asked Lyra. He peeked at his son. “He's a bit thorough, isn't he?”“He is.” Lyra laughed and Tyson raised a brow at her. “But he's nice.”Grandpa Wilson glanced at Tyson again. Something flashed in his eyes for half a second before he nodded. “I see…” After a moment, he deboned a piece of fish and placed it on Tyson's plate. “You used to like when I did this for you.”Tyson shrugged and picked it up with his cutlery.

  • Left at the altar, Claimed by his uncle   Chapter 58: Bullshit!

    As they walked back, Tyson was still holding on to Lyra.She pretended her hair needed adjusting, and pulled her hand away from his. He glanced at her briefly, but didn't say a word.They reached their seats, and Tyson pulled out Lyra's chair.“Thanks,” she murmured, lowering herself quickly, so as not to draw any more attention towards them. Alex's grip tightened around his cutlery. While Fiona still had her suspicious look.Tyson sat too.Dinner felt a tiny bit less tense. But only for Lyra. “My dear, how's working at Helixion? I hope it's not too demanding?” Grandpa asked Lyra. He peeked at his son. “He's a bit thorough, isn't he?”“He is.” Lyra laughed and Tyson raised a brow at her. “But he's nice.”Grandpa Wilson glanced at Tyson again. Something flashed in his eyes for half a second before he nodded. “I see…” After a moment, he deboned a piece of fish and placed it on Tyson's plate. “You used to like when I did this for you.”Tyson shrugged and picked it up with his cutlery.

  • Left at the altar, Claimed by his uncle   Chapter 58: Bullshit!

    As they walked back, Tyson was still holding on to Lyra. She pretended her hair needed adjusting, and pulled her hand away from his. He glanced at her briefly, but didn't say a word. They reached their seats, and Tyson pulled out Lyra's chair. “Thanks,” she murmured, lowering herself quickly, so as not to draw any more attention towards them. Alex's grip tightened around his cutlery. While Fiona still had her suspicious look. Tyson sat too. Dinner felt a tiny bit less tense. But only for Lyra. “My dear, how's working at Helixion? I hope it's not too demanding?” Grandpa asked Lyra. He peeked at his son. “He's a bit thorough, isn't he?” “He is.” Lyra laughed and Tyson raised a brow at her. “But he's nice.” Grandpa Wilson glanced at Tyson again. Something flashed in his eyes for half a second before he nodded. “I see…” After a moment, he deboned a piece of fish and placed it on Tyson's plate. “You used to like when I did this for you.” Tyson shrugged and picked it up

  • Left at the altar, Claimed by his uncle   Chapter 57: Long overdue.

    Grandpa Wilson just exhaled but his eyes remained on his son. The fact that Tyson was here was more than enough for him. Across him, Nadine was watching, holding her wine glass with more force than necessary. Why was everyone choosing to sit beside that brat? “Uncle Tyson… Welcome.” But Tyson's attention was still on his woman. Drea just watched with fascination. Lyra sat up straighter than usual, trying to pretend unfazed with all the attention on her. “I'm fine,” she murmured. “Let's eat.” Grandpa Wilson finally removed his endearing eyes from Tyson and clicked his glass. “A blessed evening it is for this family! My son is dining with us today!” He turned to one of the servants behind him. “Bring more food.” The cheering that followed was expectedly dull. Despite the sound of cutlery against plates that filled the air as they ate, everyone acted too careful. As though if they moved too quickly, too recklessly, the fragile thread holding everything together would shat

  • Left at the altar, Claimed by his uncle   Chapter 56: How are you?

    The terrace was already full when Lyra and Fiona arrived. Hanging lights that bathed the area in warmth. A long table with polished wine glasses reflected the flames of the candles arranged down the center. On it was a feast—roasted meats, grilled vegetables, fresh bread, and steaming dishes prepared by their Michelin-starred chefs. Nothing short of the usual Wilson family dinner. Yet the atmosphere was so stiff, the tension could be cut with a saw. At the head of the table sat Grandpa Wilson, wearing his usual navy blazer with gold cufflinks that caught the light. Fiona and Lyra went over there to say their hellos before grabbing seats. “Hey, Lyra,” Drea, who was seated on Grandpa Wilson's right side, greeted. Then she giggled at the phone where her full attention was directed. Drea was Alex's teenage sister. She was at that age where they hated anything and anyone, and family gatherings like this felt like a death sentence for them. “Hey, Drea,” Lyra responded, quietly taking

  • Left at the altar, Claimed by his uncle   Chapter 55: Mr. Wilson Senior

    The study smelled faintly of old paper and polished wood. It was just as Lyra remembered it. Dark walnut bookshelves stretched from top to bottom, every shelf lined with leather-bound books and framed family photographs. Through the floor-to-ceiling, one could have a clear view of the garden. But Lyra wasn't bothered about the drama probably going on there. Instead, her eyes moved to the crackling fireplace that warmed the room.Once, when she'd visited with her mother, she'd wandered here. That's when she met Tyson for the first time. He’d been sitting exactly where Fiona was now, a book resting on one knee, listening far more seriously than any adult should have listened to a sixteen-year-old complain about her first heartbreak—Dylan.He was like this wise older guy back then. Yet for a moment, she wondered if things would've been different if Tyson hadn't disappeared when she was grieving. If he was the one who'd comforted her instead of Alex.Fiona gestured to the chair opposi

  • Left at the altar, Claimed by his uncle   Chapter 5: Legally hitched.

    In Mantha Oil Limited's top floor, Magnus had just entered the biggest office in the building. Patrick, who was resting with both eyes shut, opened an eye and glanced at his assistant lazily. “What is it?”“I have news on EC,” Magnus announced.Patrick leaned forward and raised a brow, curiosity p

  • Left at the altar, Claimed by his uncle   Chapter 4: Welcome Davis

    Moments later, Tyson returned with a nurse in her mid-twenties. She checked Lyra's vitals and said she was fine. The impact from the accident wasn't fatal, and she just had a few bruises.After the nurse left, Tyson sat beside Lyra, an awkward silence stretching in the room. Until he broke it. “Sor

  • Left at the altar, Claimed by his uncle   Chapter 3: Big audience.

    “Nadine?” Alex called out, worry etched on his face. Lyra knew that this was just one of Nadine's tricks. She wondered how Alex was always so blind to it. “Lex, please help me. I don't know what's wrong. I can't breat—” Nadine collapsed to the ground. Murmurs swept through the church. Men in

  • Left at the altar, Claimed by his uncle   Chapter 2: People don't change easily

    The soft hum of machines and the smell of antiseptic and drugs sifted through the air in Crestmont Medical Center. In Ward 105, Lyra slowly blinked her eyes open. She looked around, trying to take in the unfamiliar surroundings. Then she spotted Alex by her bed, jaw tight, glaring at her. “Alex?”

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