Chapter 5

As Lemar woke, he rolled over in bed, reaching for it, but his hand met only a cold blanket. Weakly, he opened his eyes and blinked at the sunlight that filtered through the heavy curtains.

Noticing that the other side of the bed was empty, he sat up, took a deep breath, and looked around the quiet suite. The remnants of sleep still lingered on his hands, but there was no sign of a presence.

He glanced at the clock on the nightstand: eight in the morning. He frowned and ran a hand through his messy hair. He lifted his feet over the edge of the bed, feeling the softness of the carpet beneath his feet.

He stood up and slowly paced around the room, noticing the absence of Tyrra’s clothes. The only trace was the faint scent that lingered in the air, a faint reminder of her presence, the scent, the warmth of her body, and the feeling of being close.

The night was vivid in his memory: the intensity, the heat, the way her presence had ignited him. But now, she was gone.

Lemar was nervous. Tyrra had just returned from the country, and jet lag had hit him. He had slept better than he had in weeks, and in his deep sleep, he hadn't heard her leave.

He took the phone from the nightstand and called his driver. It rang twice before a familiar voice answered. "Good morning, Mr. Domino," the driver said.

"The lady from yesterday, is her car still parked outside?" Lemar asked, cautiously and not too intrusive in the merriment.

"No, sir," the driver replied. "I didn't see the car when I arrived here an hour ago."

He cursed under his breath at the unanswered questions, thanking the driver before hanging up. He paced the room, his mind racing to find her and how.

He had no idea where Tyrra was or who knew where she had gone. The realization only added to his frustration and anxiety.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. There was nothing he could do now but hope that he would somehow see Tyrra again.

But for now, he had to focus on his cousin's wedding. He pushed his own irritation aside and went to the bathroom to shower and shave.

The hot water did little to ease the tension in his muscles. The memory of the night kept coming back to him: the moans, the touches, the warmth of Tyrra's presence, the way she had made him feel alive. But now, she was gone; only a memory remained.

Lemar stepped out of the shower and wrapped himself in a towel, his mind slowly drifting back to the events of the day.

He dressed carefully: a crisp white shirt and a tailored suit. As he was putting on his cufflinks, his phone rang. It was his mother.

"Morning, Mom," he greeted, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder as he adjusted the last details of his outfit.

"Lemar, darling, are you alright? I just heard about the accident..."

"I'm fine. I wasn't hurt," he quickly assured her, trying to push away the wave of nervousness that was washing over him.

"Okay. You need to go home," he said, his voice tinged with urgency.

"Home? For what?" he echoed, confused. "How's the wedding?"

"It's off, dear. There will not be a wedding," she replied. "The bride jilted your cousin. The wedding has been canceled."

Lemar paused, forgetting his cufflinks. "What happened?"

"I have no idea," his mother sighed. "Just go home. I hope Flavier explains everything to us all."

"I'll be there soon," he replied before hanging up.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror, his mind racing. The bride jilted her cousin? This day was more complicated than he had expected.

He quickly finished getting dressed and grabbed his keys and wallet, putting them in his pocket. With one last glance at the suite, he left, the scent of Tyrra's perfume still lingering in the air, a ghost of the night before.

As the driver drove him to the family home, he stared out the window, his mind awash with confusion: Who was she? Why had she left without saying a word? What had happened to his cousin's wedding?

When he arrived, his mother met him at the door, her face filled with worry and anxiety.

"I'm glad you're here," his mother said, pulling him into a brief hug.

"What's going on?" Lemar asked, clearly confused.

His mother sighed. "Let's go to study. Your father is there," she replied, leading Lemar into the study room.

"What's this, about Flavier being jilted?" Lemar asked as soon as the door closed into behind them.

His mother shook her head, a hint of anger and disappointment in her tone. "According to his mother, he was with his lover all night. This morning, he showed up and announced that there was no wedding, and didn't want to explain. Then, he packed his bags and left."

Lemar frowned. "Is that it?" he asked, sitting across from his father.

"Is that it," his mother confirmed.

"Poor Flavier. He's definitely going to be ruined," Lemar said, and his mother nodded.

"This is such a mess. Can you imagine how much embarrassment and humiliation the family has to suffer? I can't believe he ever wanted to get married to someone so irresponsible," she added, as Lemar sighed.

"Well, I suppose a broken engagement is better than a broken marriage," Lemar said, clearly outlining his own opinion.

“You could say that. Now that you’re back, let’s talk about the company. I’m stepping down so you can take over at the next shareholder’s meeting,” his father announced.

“When you say takeover, do you mean I’m just going to be a puppet so you can pull the strings behind the scenes, or are you going to step back and let me handle the business?” Lemar asked, his eyebrows raised, a slight laugh.

His father laughed too. “I’m going to let you do your thing. I’m old and tired. All I want is to retire and spend all my time playing golf.”

“You’re only in your early sixties. You’re not old at all. And I have no problem with taking over as long as you don’t expect me to stand in front of any cameras, reciting words I don’t mean or pretending to be someone I’m not,” Lemar said, his directness clear. His father nodded, clearly appreciating the honesty.

"I understand your desire to avoid public scrutiny, and I have always respected it. I will not stop now," his father replied, to which Lemar nodded as well.

"Then," his father added, "I think I am ready to pass the reins to you."