The Heir's Secret Bride

Chapter 352

The black Spyker stopped by the roadside. Byron carried Maeve and walked over, ignoring her kitten-like struggles as he shoved her into the passenger seat.

Maeve felt a bit dizzy. She tried to get out but was firmly pressed back by Byron, who held her waist.

"What are you doing?!" She glared angrily at him. "I already said I don't want to go back. Don't you understand?"

"Are you so happy you don't want to go home?" he asked, his voice cold.

"Aren't you the same?" Maeve shot back. "I thought it was a tacit understanding between us that we'd play our own games

outside."

Byron's expression darkened as he looked at her coldly. "Is this how you ruin your body when I'm not around?"

"This is my own body. What does it have to do with you?" Maeve snapped back, unwilling to back down.

Byron pinched her chin, his dark eyes dangerous as he stared at her. "Repeat it. It has nothing to do with me?"

"I don't mind saying it ten times. Besides, who are you to interfere in my matters?" Thinking of how he had deliberately avoided her recently, Maeve's bright eyes flared with anger. Her delicate finger poked his chest, and with a mocking smile, she said, "Don't forget your identity, ex-husband." The word "ex-husband" instantly made Byron's face darken.

Their gazes clashed in the air, like a needle facing a sharp edge, each holding onto their own pride, unwilling to lower their heads first.

In the end, Byron stood up with a cold expression, slammed the door on her side, and walked around the front of the car to the driver's seat. Maeve's brain, now increasingly affected by the alcohol, started to betray her. When she tried to get out of the car, the door was already locked.

She was about to say something, but the car shot forward like an arrow released from a bow. The sudden jolt made her stomach churn.

Maeve could not utter a word, clutching her burning stomach. Her face turned pale as paper.

'Was it her weakened constitution, or had the cocktail hit her harder this time?' Byron thought. 'Why did she feel so miserable?'

Byron glanced at Maeve in the rearview mirror as she bent over in pain. His expression remained cold and indifferent, but without him realizing, the car's speed gradually slowed.

building, Maeve was in so much pain she could hardly bear it

upstairs without saying a

were already asleep, and the apartment was

Byron put Maeve down in the bedroom, he walked out without pausing and closed the door

like a thorny vine, quietly wrapped around her heart, tightening with each passing moment. The intermittent pain she felt was far worse than the discomfort from her

NOV TO

was the

unable to.

amount of time, the door was quietly

Almost inaudible footsteps approached.

then gently pulled back the blanket covering Maeve, urging her to sit up

when Byron lifted the blanket, he saw that

she was clearly battling her physical discomfort. Byron pursed his thin lips, sitting on the edge of the bed and propping her up against him.

Maeve groggily responded,

my house? Hurry up and leave. It won't be good if my husband finds you here." Byron narrowed his

Maeve muttered,

don't?" Byron asked, his voice

stable. Sometimes, I can't even remember him," Maeve admitted, her

as he leaned in and

said you're leaving soon. What if my husband finds out about our affair and breaks us apart?" Byron stared at her, his temples twitching with every word she said. 'Lover. Adultery. Breaking the lovebirds

she dared

if you dare touch alcohol again," he warned her in a harsh tone. He picked

shoulder, opened her mouth like a queen.

at

himself to fate and fed her the hangover remedy one mouthful at a time. He seemed impatient, but his movements were gentle and slow, making sure not to spill a

the blanket, his expression cold as

about to obey him. Her eyes were wide open, filled with worry.

dares to come, I'll

Sun, Nov

Chapter 352