Half an hour later, Maeve arrived at McDaniel Group, slightly stunned by the towering building before her. The custom-made suit she carried was intended for someone working within the company—a first visit for her; she'd only seen the imposing structure in news reports before. It symbolized immense power and status in Kleymond.

She mused, All this in that man's hands. But it has nothing to do with me. This place is huge; I might not even see him. Taking a deep breath, she entered and explained her purpose to the receptionist.

After a brief call, someone quickly escorted Maeve upstairs. Upon reaching the top floor, a female secretary swiped her card and ushered Maeve in, saying, "Ms. Reese, please."

"Thank you," Maeve replied.

The office floor was at least twice the size of Eternal Hope's. Spacious and bright, it was divided into four clearly defined areas. Remarkably quiet, even the secretary's heels clicked almost silently. Maeve followed her into a reception room.

"Ms. Reese, please wait a moment," the secretary said, placing a cup of coffee on the table. Then she left.

Maeve sipped her coffee and waited patiently—for several hours, in fact. The coffee grew cold, replaced several times by the secretary, who repeatedly informed Maeve that the meeting wasn't over yet.

Maeve couldn't help but think, A meeting this long? They don't need to use the restroom, huh?

Around five o'clock, Maeve could wait no longer. Rising from the sofa, her legs were numb. Before coming, Leah had warned her that the client was special, potentially difficult, and required utmost sincerity. She thought, I've waited all afternoon. Regardless of my sincerity, my intention is clear.

Sighing, Maeve started to leave, her legs still numb. Unexpectedly, she bumped into the returning secretary, spilling coffee onto herself.

"Ms. Reese, are you alright? I'm so sorry!" the secretary exclaimed, quickly offering tissues.

"It's fine," Maeve said. "It's winter; I'm layered up. I'm not burned." As she spoke, she noticed a figure approaching.

He wore a well-tailored black suit that accentuated his tall, upright figure. His long strides were sharp and decisive, exuding an air of coldness and high status. Those around him faded into the background; he commanded all attention.

Sensing Maeve's gaze, Byron raised his eyelids and briefly looked at her before coldly withdrawing his gaze and walking past her into his office.

Maeve watched, dazed, a pang of unexpected emotion hitting her. She thought, I mentally prepared myself for our future estrangement after the divorce, but I overestimated my resolve.

The secretary's voice broke through Maeve's thoughts. "Ms. Reese, I'm truly sorry. I have a spare, unworn outfit. Why not change out of your wet clothes?"

Maeve blinked back the sadness, pulling herself together. She realized that going out in her damp clothes would likely lead to a cold, so she accepted the offer. After changing, she transferred money to the secretary to purchase the outfit, avoiding the need for a return.

The secretary accepted the payment and said, "Ms. Reese, our CEO is free now. You may go in."

Maeve was stunned. "Your CEO is looking for me?"

"Aren't you the one looking for him? The contract…" The secretary looked puzzled.

Realizing the situation, Maeve tensed. She thought, The custom suit is for Byron? I suspected it, but dismissed the coincidence. He isn't the only high-ranking figure at McDaniel Group. But now, given his indifference, the contract might fail.

Torn, Maeve waited outside the CEO's office. Remembering Leah's instructions, she summoned her courage and knocked. A deep, cold voice said, "Come in."

Maeve took a deep breath and entered. The evening sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a cold light on the handsome figure behind the desk. He raised his eyes, his face aloof. "Who allowed you to come in?"

Maeve lowered her gaze, approached him, placed the contract on the desk, and offered a polite smile. "Hello, Mr. McDaniel. I'm Maeve Reese, a designer from Eternal Hope, handling your custom spring suit. If you're willing, this is the contract. Please sign here."

Byron didn't look at the contract. "I'm very busy. I don't have time for this. Get out."

Maeve maintained her smile. "Mr. McDaniel, you saw the design exhibition last week. You know my skills. I haven't showcased my men's wear yet. I hope you'll give me this chance."

Byron paused his writing. "Ms. Reese, do you know which designers make my suits?"

"Please tell me."

Byron casually named several highly influential designers. His tone was indifferent. "Ms. Reese, you've never handled men's suits. Why should I believe you're capable? Are you qualified?"

The question stung Maeve. Clenching her fists, she said calmly, "Perhaps I'm not as skilled as those designers, but your coming to Eternal Hope suggests you want something new. The fact this project reached me indirectly suggests I am qualified."

Byron raised an eyebrow, his interest vanishing instantly. "In that case, Ms. Reese, show me your sincerity. Show me your qualifications."

Maeve sighed in relief. As long as he doesn't outright reject me, I have a chance. And he didn't throw me out—that's surprising.

Before leaving, she heard Byron's indifferent voice. "Ms. Reese, I'm curious what price you're willing to pay for this project."

A chill ran down Maeve's spine. What price? He wants my sincerity? Is this a trap?

After Maeve left, Archer entered with documents. "Mr. McDaniel, Bert sent an invitation to tailor your spring suit."

The extraneous text ("Jefi Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ…", the date and time stamp) has been removed as it was irrelevant to the story. Spelling and grammatical errors have been corrected, and the punctuation has been improved for clarity and flow.