The Heir's Secret Bride

Chapter

18

He shot a glance at the scruffy brown pup, then turned back to Maeve, eyebrows raised, clearly questioning her bizarre. anties.

Maeve's anger vanished in an instant. She pulled back the hand she'd been waving at the dog, her face flushing as a wave of heat spread across her cheeks and ears, turning them a deep shade of red. "I-I wasn't arguing with it," she stammered, her voice shaky. "I was just... reasoning with it."

Byron had just come from a negotiation, still carrying the scent of alcohol and a lingering bad mood. But when Maeve offered her ridiculously naive explanation, a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. That amusement quickly faded when his eyes fell on the torn collar of her shirt. His expression darkened, and he asked, "What the hell happened to your clothes?"

His gaze moved from her collar to the red marks on her neck, and his frown deepened. "Get in the car."

Maeve's checks cooled as she nodded and slipped into the passenger seat. As she fastened her seatbelt, she glanced around at the sleek, luxurious interior and asked, "Is this your boss's car? Are you even allowed to be driving it?" eah. Byron replied nonchalantly.

Maeve's eyes widened. She recognized this was a Maybach-definitely a sign that Byron's boss was someone important. Even the license plate, with its elite number, was enough to make that clear. She wondered if the earlier chase had something to do with his boss. She frowned, thinking to herself. Must be rough working for someone that high up.

Byron noticed her awkwardly trying to cover her torn collar, her attempts doing little to hide the smooth skin underneath.

Without looking directly at her, he shrugged off his coat and draped it over her lap. "Put this on."

Maeve looked down at the coat, then back up at him with a small, grateful smile. "Thanks."

The coat still carried the warmth of of Byron's body, and since Maeve was petite, it nearly reached her calves, enveloping her in its warmth. Byron nodded odded briefly, started the engine, and drove off.

After they had driven for a while, Byron asked, "How'd you hurt your hand?"

Maeve's

"If

fingers paused as she

as she adjusted her slee

clenching. She wasn't

to t to talk about it, that's fine," Byron said. "Tissues are

for the

glanced over and, without a word, pressed a hidden

high-tech," she remarked with an awkward laugh, pulling out a tissue to clean

wandered. She had no regrets about stabbing Jeff-if

Iris control f forever.

the relative safety of Byron's car, a new fear took hold. 'With the Graves family's influence, if Jeff seeks revenge, could Byron end up caught in the crossfire?' she wondered.

in her fingers and frowned, falling silent. The rest of the

home, Marve immediately grabbed some clothes and headed to the bathroom for a

called Archer, instructing him to

the private room

As Maeve drove the knife into Jeff's hand, a flash of surprise

I'm

done

my shower. You can go ahead now," Maeve's soft voice came

he rewound

the third time, Byron opened the chat box and sent a message to Archer. [Handle the aftermath and also help Nestor secure

Securing the

control of the company Maeve called out to Byron once, then made her way to the living room to tend

occurred when she accidentally injured herself while stabbing Jeff. Since the wound was on her right hand, applying the

to find him. standing in

gaze.

the floor.

raising an eyebrow in silent observation. He didn't offer

flustered under his gaze. Her unfamiliarity with using her left hand made her movements shaky and clumsy. Frustration mounting, she finally turned to him with a beseeching

her frustration bubbling beneath the surface. It was clear to her now-he was

things on her own, never considering asking for help. Byron knew

both annoyed and amused by his strange sense

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