Maeve's heart went cold at Byron's determined look. After a long pause, she forced a smile through her rage and said, "Fine, I'll go. Don't regret it later."

In the other ward, Karen leaned weakly against the headboard. When she saw Maeve and Byron enter, her lips curled into a fleeting smile of triumph. She coughed lightly and said, "Byron, can Ms. Reese really take care of me? After all, she is your wife."

"She brought this on herself," Byron's tone was frosty.

Maeve clenched her fists but said nothing.

Karen smiled. "Ms. Reese, I guess I'll have to trouble you. Could you pour me a glass of water first?"

Maeve walked to the table, poured a glass of water, and handed it to Karen. As Karen reached out, Maeve splashed the water in her face. Then, she forcefully smashed the glass, picked up a shard, and aimed it at her. Karen shrieked, "Byron, save me!"

Byron's face tightened, and he moved forward, but Maeve pointed the shard at him.

"I could take care of her as you wished," Maeve said with a chilling gaze. "But I should warn you, my mental state isn't stable. I just injured her with a knife, so who knows when I might lash out again? Don't blame me if I accidentally hurt your precious one." Her gaze was colder than ever, as though her heart had become numb.

Byron felt the pressure building in his chest from holding back his anger. He swallowed hard but remained silent. Karen was frightened by Maeve's actions. She couldn't imagine what would have happened if the shards had hit her. "Byron, since Ms. Reese is so unwilling, I'd rather not have her take care of me; she might hurt me again..." Karen said, her face turning pale.

"What are you afraid of?" Maeve sneered. "If I hurt you, Mr. McDaniel would only humiliate me further to avenge you. What is there to fear?"

Karen could only glare at the shard, fury simmering within her as she cursed inwardly. This bitch, she thought, how dare she? "Byron," Karen murmured aggrievedly.

Byron, however, didn't look at Karen. He said sharply to Maeve, "Get out."

Maeve tossed the shard to the ground and, passing him, calmly stated, "I don't want the apartment anymore. I'll file for divorce tomorrow."

"Don't even think about it," Byron hissed.

Maeve walked out of the ward without looking back. Byron watched her depart, his expression growing colder by the second.

"Why is Ms. Reese angry with me? I only asked her to take care of me," Karen sobbed, trying to regain his attention. "If it weren't for her, I wouldn't have been..."

"I've told you, don't make claims without evidence," Byron's eyes narrowed. "Is the injury on your hand really caused by Maeve?"

Karen froze, tears spilling down her face. She raised her injured hand, her face filled with sorrow. "Do you think I'm lying? I'm not a fool. How could I possibly hurt myself? My hand was nearly ruined!"

Byron frowned, offering no comfort. The thought of Maeve's resolute eyes when she aimed the shard at him overwhelmed him with unresolved frustration. If Maeve had truly done these things, she wouldn't be so indignant. Yet, all clues point to her. With so many coincidences, the whole thing seems even more suspicious, he pondered.

The next morning, Maeve, eager to leave the hospital, completed the discharge procedures with Alex's assistance. As she left the ward, Byron approached, pushing Karen in a wheelchair. The sight of them together struck Maeve with a stabbing pain in her chest. Byron looked at her, and as his gaze fell on Alex, his eyes grew icy.

"Uncle Byron, is this your wife?" Alex asked with a smile. "You two seem pretty close."

Karen looked bashful, but Byron quickly denied it. "No," he said tersely.

Karen's face stiffened, and she quickly changed the subject. "Byron, is this your nephew?"

Alex, focused on design and rarely attending social gatherings, was unfamiliar to Karen.

"You're mistaken," Alex explained. "Maeve is actually Byron's niece."

Karen looked at Maeve with a smirk. "So, Ms. Reese is Byron's niece. I've never heard that before. Are you and this gentleman going on a date?"

Maeve caught the provocation, her lips curling slightly. "It's none of your concern."

"Since you're Byron's niece, it's only natural for me to be concerned," Karen replied, smiling sweetly but with a subtle undertone.

Alex glanced at Karen and said to Byron, "Most women aren't comfortable with their husbands being too close to other women. If your wife hears Ms. Booth's remarks, she might feel jealous."

The statement caused a shift in the expressions of the others.

Byron turned to Maeve, his deep-set eyes devoid of warmth. "My wife is very understanding and doesn't get jealous easily."

Feeling insulted, Maeve shot Byron a glance. Their eyes met, and she felt her heart tremble.

"Well, we won't hold you up any further," Alex replied. He turned to Maeve. "Maeve, let's go."

Byron's eyes narrowed as he looked at Maeve. Maeve felt a chill down her spine, but she remained composed as she turned away and followed Alex.

"Bonnie told me you've been staying at her place lately. Since she's now hospitalized, it must be inconvenient for you," Alex said. "There's a vacant apartment next door to mine. Since I know the landlord, you can get it at a discounted rate." Maeve was tempted but politely declined. "It's fine. I'm close to finding a place. I don't want to trouble you, Alex."

"It's no trouble at all," Alex smiled. "Besides, Bonnie asked me to help. She's worried about your safety if you stay elsewhere." Alex wondered why Maeve was moving out so abruptly. It seems like Byron's mistress has something to do with it, he thought.

Maeve found it hard to refuse after he mentioned Bonnie. "Let me check the place first. If it suits me, I'll decide then."

"Of course," Alex replied. "I'll pick you up tomorrow."

"Thank you, Alex," Maeve said with a smile.

The two chatted amiably as they entered the elevator. When they reached the ground floor, as Maeve was about to get into the car, someone yanked her arm forcefully, causing her to stumble back. She turned and saw Byron's brooding face, making her heart race. "What are you doing?" Maeve demanded.

"Don't you dare live next to that pretty boy," Byron gripped her wrist tightly, his voice low and threatening.

I removed the unnecessary website promotion. I also corrected several grammatical errors, improved sentence structure, and standardized punctuation. I replaced some informal phrasing with more formal alternatives where appropriate for a more polished narrative.