The Bigshot's Superstar Wife-Chapter 112: Meant

Lawrence never expected the outcome in the morning.

He was a light sleeper, trained to wake at the slightest disturbance. But this time, it wasn’t danger that stirred him, it was something far more unexpected.

Warm, soft lips pressed against his.

For a split second, he thought he was still dreaming, but as his senses sharpened, he realized the weight straddling him, the heat radiating from another body so close to his.

His eyes flew open.

Elara.

Her face was flushed, her breath warm against his skin. But what stunned him the most was her eyes, they weren’t their usual deep color but instead glowed with an eerie, unnatural hue.

"Elara..." His voice came out rough as he attempted to move, but the moment he tried to push her away, he froze.

She was strong.

Much stronger than she should be.

His arms, which had held down men twice her size in combat, were pinned to the bed by her delicate hands as if he were the weaker one.

"Elara." His tone dropped to a warning, but she only blinked at him, her expression innocent yet strangely persistent.

"Lawrence…" Her voice was soft, almost purring as she leaned in again, brushing her lips teasingly against his cheek before resting her forehead against his. "You smell nice."

Lawrence stiffened.

What in the world was happening to her?

"Elara, listen to me." He struggled again, trying to break free from her hold, but she refused to budge. "Something is wrong with you. You need to snap out of it."

She pouted, tilting her head. "Wrong? But I feel… amazing."

Her fingers brushed against his chest, tracing lazy circles over the fabric of his sleep shirt. "I just want to be close to you, Lawrence. Don’t you want that too?"

Lawrence gritted his teeth, every muscle in his body on high alert. Elara was acting completely out of character.

She was a proud woman who wouldn’t dare do something like this under normal circumstances. This was the drug’s effect.

"Elara, listen," he said firmly, forcing himself to maintain eye contact despite how unsettling her glowing irises were.

"You’ve been drugged. Whatever was in your system is making you act like this."

She blinked at him, as if processing his words. Then, with a giggle that sent a chill down his spine, she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear.

"Then maybe you should take responsibility, Major General."

Lawrence clenched his jaw.

"Elara," he warned.

She ignored him, pressing her body against his, her breath warm against his neck. His heartbeat quickened, not from desire but from the sheer absurdity of the situation.

He had faced assassins, outsmarted enemies, and led his army to countless victories. Yet here he was, trapped beneath a woman who shouldn’t have this kind of strength.

"Elara, you need to stop this."

"But I don’t want to."

She smiled mischievously, her fingers trailing up his arm, as if fascinated by the muscles beneath his shirt.

"You’re always so serious," she murmured. "So cold. I think you need someone to warm you up."

Lawrence inhaled sharply, his patience wearing thin. This wasn’t Elara speaking. It was the drug. And he needed to put an end to this before things escalated.

Gathering all his strength, he suddenly shifted, using her own momentum against her. In one swift move, he flipped them over, pinning her beneath him.

"Elara, enough." His voice was firm, commanding.

She stared up at him, momentarily surprised by the sudden reversal. But then, instead of struggling, she wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs tangling with his.

"You’re so handsome, Lawrence," she whispered, her fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. "Did you know that?"

He let out a slow exhale, struggling to keep his composure. "Yes, I’m aware," he muttered dryly.

She giggled. "Then you should smile more. I bet you’d look even better."

Lawrence ran a hand down his face, mentally cursing whoever had drugged her. "Listen," he said, forcing her gaze back to his. "You’re going to regret this when you wake up."

"No, I won’t," she said stubbornly.

"Yes, you will."

"No."

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"Yes."

She huffed, her lower lip jutting out. "You’re really difficult, you know that?"

"And you’re out of your mind right now," he shot back.

She stared at him for a long moment, then, to his utter disbelief, she burst into laughter.

Lawrence blinked.

Elara laughed until tears pricked the corners of her eyes. "You... your face!" She pointed at him between giggles.

"You look so serious, like you’re about to negotiate a war treaty, but we’re just talking about how I think you’re handsome."

Lawrence narrowed his eyes. "This isn’t funny."

She only laughed harder.

He sighed, realizing there was no use reasoning with her in this state.

Her laughter eventually softened, and she gazed up at him with a sleepy smile. "You’re a good man, Lawrence."

He frowned, taken aback by the sudden shift in tone.

She reached up, cupping his face with both hands. "That’s why I like you."

Lawrence stiffened.

"Elara..."

But before he could respond, her eyes fluttered shut, and just like that, she was asleep.

He stared at her, waiting to see if she was faking, but her slow, even breaths confirmed she was truly unconscious.

Letting out a heavy sigh, he carefully untangled himself from her grasp, ensuring she was comfortable before standing up.

Raking a hand through his hair, he glared at the ceiling. This was, without a doubt, the longest night of his life. Tomorrow, she would wake up mortified.

And Lawrence Demerin would make sure to remind her of every single embarrassing thing she had done.

Lawrence sat at the edge of the bed, watching Elara sleep soundly. Her breathing was steady now, and the unnatural glow in her irises had faded. He exhaled, rubbing his temples.

This woman was going to be the death of him.

Shaking his head, he grabbed a blanket and gently draped it over her. Then, as quietly as possible, he moved to sit on the chair nearby, keeping a watchful eye on her.

Tomorrow would be interesting.

A smirk tugged at his lips.

Elara wouldn’t hear the end of this.