The Heir's Secret Bride

Chapter 47

Byron seemed completely oblivious to the situation. As he watched her with her eyes closed, her long lashes fluttered gently, like the wings of a butterfly. Her pale cheeks were tinged with a soft blush, and her small, delicate lips were pressed together in a shy expression.

His eyes darkened as he leaned closer to Maeve's ear and teased, Maeve, if you sweet-talk me a little, I might just let you take a peek." Maeve was taken aback.

"Who wants to look at you?" Maeve's face turned an even deeper shade of red as she snapped back, frustrated. "Do you feel out of sorts if you don't flirt with me for a day?"

Her skin was so delicate that whenever she heard things like this, the blush on her face would spread all the way to her neck and shoulders, turning a lovely shade of cherry blossom pink. Ishe was normally an eight, in these moments, she was a perfect ten. Byron's on's gaze lingered on her soft, slender neck for a moment before he casually looked away. After they left the bathroom, Maeve suddenly became curious about something.

"Mr. Mcdaniel, what are you going to do about the bathroom when I'm at work?" she asked.

Since he didn't like other people touching him, it seemed unlikely he'd let a nurse help him. She thought, 'So, what is he going to do? "Then I'll just have to manage on my own," he answered.

With that,

Byron picked up a magazine, his long fingers flipping at open leisurely as if the issue didn't concern him at all.

Annoyed, Maeve asked,

Then why did you need me to help you just now?"

Without even looking up, Byron replied, "Why should I struggle when I have someone to help?"

Maeve was speechless. He had her there.

Just then, her phone buzzed on the couch.

Maeve picked it up and saw a message from her landlord at Pinehurst Apartments.

The landlord said a package had arrived for her a couple of days ago, and if she didn't pick it up soon, it would be thrown.

oul.

oul.

Maeve was puzzled, thinking. I have already collected all my packages from that address and have updated my information, so how could something still be sent to my old place?

sent a photo, and sure enough, it was addressed to her. The sender's details were blurry, so she couldn't tell

wasn't far, Maeve decided

in hand, opening it as she walked down the hallway. "I don't even remember ordering anything like this. How did it end up being sent to my old apartment?" she said. Byron, who was reviewing some documents, heard her and something clicked in his mind. His

Chapter 47

cold. cold.

warn her, but she had already opened

A pile

spilled out, scattering across the

in them. And the background was her old apartment's living room... the photos. Maeve's mind went blank, her face draining of color as her hands

in the living room, let alone appear as

She

my dolls, wasn't impossible that he drugged me and took these photos without my knowledge. Maeve didn't care about the dirty floor; she

them

that had fallen out of the package, and blood immediately began to

didn't notice; her mind was consumed by the shock of those photos, leaving her oblivious to everything eke. "Maeve, calm

wounds as he half-knelt

with his left hand, noticing the blood streaming from her palm. Frustration and anger flickered

eyes.

are

clung to the photos, oblivious to the pain in her

Byron's words that the

"Fake?"

Fake?

"Look closely. The

his stern expression, then snapped out of her daze and quickly looked

with Jeff's history of secretly installing cameras in her home,

than those in the photos. Most importantly, the "she" in the photos had a mole on her lower back-something she didn't have. Noticing these inconsistencies, Maeve's frantic mind slowly began to settle, and she finally regained her composure. 08:20 Thu,

Chame 47

to Byron, only to realize

"Mr.

with your injuriest" She quickly stood up and helped him back onto the bed, frowning as she checked his injuries. "How do your knee and right hand feel? Are you in pain? Should I call the doctor?" Getting

he didn't show any signs of discomfort in front of her, except for his slightly pale

fine. Don't