Chapter 7
Just as the rod came hurtling down, a powerful hand shot out, stopping it mid–swing. Byron stood there, unfazed, his eyes cold and filled with contempt as he stared Jeff down. His arm muscles tightened, strong and defined, as he gripped the rod as if it weighed nothing.
In one swift motion, he twisted his body and grabbed Jeff’s arm, yanking it backward with a quick, brutal snap. The sickening crunch of bone filled the room, followed by Jeff’s piercing scream.
But Byron wasn’t done. His leg shot out, delivering a vicious kick to Jeff’s chest. The blow was brutal; the sharp crack of ribs echoed in the air. Jeff didn’t even have time to groan before he collapsed to the floor, unconscious.
Byron’s movements, however, reopened his wounds. He grimaced, his face growing visibly paler.
Maeve noticed right away and rushed over to him, not sparing a glance for Jeff, who lay motionless on the floor. “Did you tear your wound open? Do we need to get to a hospital?”
“I’m fine,” Byron grunted, but his eyes unintentionally flicked to Maeve’s cleavage peeking out from her nightgown before he quickly shifted his focus back to Jeff. “What are we supposed to do with this piece of trash?” His voice was cold and dismissive, as if Jeff were nothing more than garbage waiting to be tossed out.
Maeve felt a small, unexpected smile tug at her lips, but it faded as she looked around at the broken door and the wreckage in her living room.
She shuddered at the thought of what might have happened if Byron hadn’t shown up. The idea of being watched by Jeff every single day made her skin crawl and her stomach churn.
“Thank God I never married him,‘ she thought, biting her lip, trying to steady herself.
When Maeve gathered herself again, she noticed Byron on the phone, calm and collected as he spoke. “Yeah, get it done and bring it over. Fast.”
Maeve blinked, puzzled.
Ten minutes later, Byron’s bodyguards arrived. They quickly took photos, collected evidence, and dragged Jeff off to the police station. They also grabbed the hidden camera and the metal rod–key pieces of evidence.
Not long after the bodyguards left, a team of workers showed up to install a new door. They worked efficiently for about half an hour, and soon, the door was securely in place.
Maeve, grateful for their hard work, wanted to offer them something to drink, but before she could say a word, they were already gone, leaving her with nothing to do but abandon the thought.
She looked at the brand–new door and smiled. “This door looks pretty solid. It shouldn’t break so easily next time, right?”
Byron, having just finished checking the lock, raised an eyebrow at her. “Didn’t they tell you? This door is made from the same material they use for safes. It’d take a bomb to get through it.”
Maeve’s jaw dropped. “Isn’t that a bit much for a little apartment like mine?”
‘My tiny, cheap apartment getting the same treatment as a bank vault? That’s just nuts, she thought.
Byron let out a low chuckle, but then his face suddenly went pale, and beads of sweat started forming on his forehead.
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21:47 Thu, Dec 26
Chapter 8
