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

She

t to talk about it, that's fine,"

her thanks and began searching for the tissue

without a word, pressed a hidden latch. The compartment

like a total country bumpkin. This car is really high-tech," she remarked with an awkward laugh, pulling

no regrets about stabbing Jeff-if she hadn't acted, she would have

Iris control f forever.

fear took hold. 'With the Graves family's influence, if Jeff seeks

falling silent.

some clothes and headed to

called Archer, instructing him to find

footage from the private

to a stern, intense focus. As Maeve drove the knife into Jeff's hand,

I'm

done

can go ahead now," Maeve's soft voice came through,

he rewound the video, replaying the

the video had played for the third time, Byron opened the chat box and sent a message to Archer. [Handle the aftermath and also

Securing the

off any opportunity for Jeff to challenge him for control of the company Maeve called out to

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

his voice casual. Maeve looked up in surprise to find him. standing in the

gaze.

fell to the floor. As she bent to retrieve it, she replied softly, "I'm almost finished"

eyebrow in silent observation. He didn't offer to

and clumsy. Frustration mounting, she finally turned to him with a beseeching look. "Could you

loss for words, her frustration bubbling beneath the surface. It was clear

attention on her younger brother, which instilled in her a strong sense of independence. She was accustomed to managing things on her own, never considering asking for help. Byron knew exactly how to push her buttons, and he seemed to take a twisted pleasure in doing it-forcing

help but be both annoyed and amused by his strange sense of

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