The Bigshot's Superstar Wife

Chapter 113: How did I...

Elara groaned, feeling an unbearable headache pressing against her skull. Her body ached, as if she had run a marathon, climbed a mountain, and wrestled a beast all in one night.

She blinked, her vision blurry, trying to make sense of where she was. The scent of fresh linen and something distinctly masculine filled her senses.

Wait.

Her sluggish brain tried to process her surroundings.

The large, unfamiliar bed, the navy-blue sheets, the neatly arranged bookshelves, and, her heart nearly stopped, the man sitting casually on the chair across from her, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Good morning, Miss El," Lawrence drawled, his deep voice laced with amusement.

Elara froze.

Her mind was blank.

Panic hit her like a tidal wave.

Slowly, she lifted the blanket and peeked underneath, relieved beyond words to see she was still fully dressed.

But the relief was short-lived as flashes of last night’s events surged into her mind. The fever. The strange drug. The overwhelming urge to be affectionate. The fact that she...

Elara slapped both hands over her mouth, horrified.

Did she...?

No. No way.

She slowly lowered her hands, eyes darting to Lawrence, who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying her internal struggle.

"Something wrong?" he asked innocently, though the glint in his golden eyes told her he knew exactly what was on her mind.

Elara swallowed. "I, uh..." She scrambled for an excuse. "I don’t feel well?"

"You don’t feel well?" Lawrence repeated, tilting his head. "Strange. Because last night, you seemed to be in excellent condition."

Elara’s entire face went red. "I... I don’t remember!"

Lawrence let out a low chuckle, standing up and stretching lazily. "Oh, you don’t?" he mused. "That’s too bad. Because I remember everything."

Her stomach dropped. "Everything?"

Lawrence nodded, walking towards the window and pulling the curtains open, letting the bright morning sunlight stream in.

"Let’s see," he said thoughtfully. "You showed up at my door in the middle of the night, looking absolutely wrecked. You then proceeded to..."

Lawrence nodded. "And until then, you’re not going anywhere alone."

She bristled. "I can take care of myself."

"You thought you could take care of yourself last night, too," Lawrence pointed out. "And look how that turned out."

Elara scowled but couldn’t argue.

"Anyway," Lawrence said, turning back to the door, "you should get ready. Breakfast is soon, and if you walk in looking like that, my parents might start planning our wedding."

Elara groaned and collapsed back onto the bed. "This is the worst."

"Not for me," Lawrence mused as he left the room, his laughter echoing down the hall.

Elara covered her face with her hands. She was never going to live this down.

Elara groaned into the pillow, wanting nothing more than to disappear. How was she supposed to face Lawrence’s parents now?

Last night had already been a nightmare, and this morning was proving to be just as humiliating.

She reluctantly sat up and ran a hand through her tangled hair.

Okay, Elara, focus. She needed to clean up, figure out what happened, and most importantly, avoid Lawrence as much as possible.

Just as she swung her legs over the bed, a soft knock came at the door.

"Miss Elara?" A maid’s voice called. "Breakfast is ready, and the Madam has requested your presence."

Elara groaned. Great. No escape.

"Alright, I’ll be down soon," she replied, forcing her voice to sound normal. She quickly freshened up, brushed her hair into a neat ponytail, and composed herself.

As she made her way downstairs, she spotted Lawrence already seated at the breakfast table, smirking like he had been waiting for her.

"Sleep well?" he asked, sipping his coffee.

Elara shot him a glare before pasting on the most polite smile she could muster. "Wonderfully," she lied, taking her seat.

Just as she reached for a piece of toast, Lawrence’s mother beamed at her. "So, dear, when are you and Lawrence planning the wedding?"

Elara choked on her tea.

Lawrence simply leaned back in his chair, smirking even wider.

She was never going to live this down.