Chapter 27
He shot a glance at the scruffy brown pup, then turned back to Maeve, eyebrows raised, clearly questioning her bizarre antics.
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.
“1-1 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 cheeks 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?”
“Yeah,” 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, herattempts 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 Byron’s body, and since Maeve was petite, it nearly reached her calves, enveloping her in its warmth.
Byron nodded briefly, started the engine, and drove off.
After they had driven for a while, Byron asked. “How’d you hurt your hand?”
Maeve’s fingers paused as she adjusted her sleeves, her hand instinctively clenching. She wasn’t sure how to answer.
“If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine,” Byron said. “Tissues are there if you need them”
Maeve murmured her thanks and began searching for the tissue box, but it wasn’t where she expected.
Byron glanced over and, without a word, pressed a hidden latch The compartment lid open, revealing the tissues inside.
Maeve suddenly felt like a total country bumpkin. This car is really high–tech,” she remarked with an awkward laugh, -pulling out a tissue to clean the blood from her palm.
Her mind wandered. She had no regrets about stabbing Jeff–if she hadn’t acted, she would have remained trapped under his control forever.
Yet, as she sat in 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
1/2
15:05 Fri, Dec 27 \
Chapter 27
Byron noticed the faint tremble in her fingers and frowned, falling silent. The rest of the drive passed in quiet.
When they got home, Maeve immediately grabbed some clothes and headed to the bathroom for a shower.
61%
Meanwhile, Byron went to the guest room, pulled out his phone and called Archer, instructing him to find out where Maeve had been and what she had done that night.
A short while later, Archer sent over a video–surveillance footage from the private room where Maeve had been. The rich guys hadn’t managed to destroy it yet.
Byron watched the video, his initial detachment slowly shifting to a stern, intense focus. As Miteve drove the knife into Jeff’s hand, a flash of surprise darkened his deep brown eyes.
Just then, a knock came at the door.
