Maeve was taken aback. What had Byron said about her?

"How am I supposed to measure you like this?" Maeve asked.

"I'll teach you," Byron replied.

As soon as she finished speaking, Byron grabbed her shoulder and made her sit on the sofa behind him. He bent his right leg and squeezed between her legs, leaning over and approaching her. "Since you've said so, wouldn't it be impossible if I don't do as you wish?" he asked.

Maeve Reese placed her hands on his chest, trying to remain calm despite her flustered expression. "Mr. McDaniel, please don't waste our time during working hours," she said.

Unbeknownst to her, each time she addressed Byron as Mr. McDaniel, it seemed to heighten the taboo nature of their relationship.

Byron's spine felt slightly numb. He stopped caressing her ear, his fingertips sliding to the back of her neck to hold her up. He kissed her heavily. He was a dominant hunter, and Maeve the prey that had unintentionally fallen into his trap. After struggling for a while, she succumbed.

The air grew stuffy and hot. Even Maeve's naturally cool palms became hot, her heartbeat accelerating. The kiss was lingering. Byron soon moved beyond her lips, kissing behind her ear, the side of her face, and then her collarbone. Numerous kisses landed on her head. Her body grew weaker, leaning against his arm to avoid falling.

Fortunately, Byron remembered where they were. After sucking a red mark onto Maeve's fragile neck, he released her. Her cheeks were flushed, the corners of her eyes red and watery. She still looked charming and adorable; her appearance easily aroused a man's destructive desire.

Byron's cheeks tightened. He suddenly wanted to bite her.

"Mr. McDaniel, don't tell me you have to kiss every woman who comes in to talk about work?" Maeve said angrily, recovering her composure.

"What do you take me for?" Byron looked at her unhappily. "Do you still want to take measurements?"

Maeve was speechless. She suspected he hadn't agreed to a divorce because he was exceptionally attracted to her body. Otherwise, why would he want to bite her? She wasn't a walking aphrodisiac. She wondered if he would treat Karen the same way.

This thought calmed her thumping heart. Whatever the case, he was a good kisser. It was enough for her to sit still and enjoy herself. She hadn't lost anything.

Calming down, Maeve stood, retrieved her measuring tape, and continued taking measurements. After recording his size and preferences, she sat and began drafting a design. Byron's style was too unique and strong; her previous sketches might not be suitable, so she had to redraw them. Fortunately, he didn't have many requests—at least he hadn't mentioned anything about wanting black.

In the end, when she confidently handed the design to Byron, he rejected it.

"It's crude. Did you even think about it?" he frowned. "Redesign it."

Maeve puffed up her cheeks. "I've put in a lot of effort!"

"Three drawings in an hour?" Byron glanced at her, tapping his fingertips on the table. "I want the best, not this perfunctory work."

"Then tell me what you don't like," she retorted.

"I don't like everything. It's getting late. Come back tomorrow."

Maeve frowned. "I can design at home and at the company. Why must I come to your place?" She didn't work at the McDaniel Group.

Byron said casually, "I have my doubts about your standard. I have to supervise you personally."

Maeve didn't appreciate others questioning her professionalism, but she agreed immediately. "Sure! I'll definitely draft a design you won't stop praising!"

The next day, Maeve was ready to surprise Byron. However, upon arriving at the McDaniel Group, she learned he'd left unexpectedly.

"Ms. Reese, Mr. McDaniel had a last-minute engagement," a male secretary explained warmly. "He asked me to tell you to come another day."

"Where did he go?" Maeve asked.

"I'm not sure, but I saw Ms. Booth's Twitter group chat; it seems she's sick, so…" the secretary hesitated.

Maeve understood. "I understand. Thank you for telling me."

"You're welcome."

After leaving, Maeve received a call from Lids, inviting her for an exclusive interview the next day. Agreeing to meet at 1:30, she felt more relaxed. While hitchhiking, she was stopped by two men in black sunglasses.

"Ms. Reese, Mr. McDaniel asked us to bring you somewhere." She wondered if they were his bodyguards.

Slightly taken aback, she asked, "Where are we going?"

"The Booth family," the bodyguard replied. "We've found one of the kidnappers. We need to bring you there for a confrontation."

Maeve was dazed. Byron had said he'd investigate secretly; she hadn't expected him to follow through.

Half an hour later, the car stopped at a villa. Maeve followed the bodyguard inside, but instead of going upstairs, he led her to the basement. A bad feeling washed over her.

"Why did you bring me here?" she asked.

The bodyguard didn't answer, pushing her into a room with railings like an iron cage and locking the door. Her heart skipped a beat. She tried to open the door but couldn't. "What are you trying to do? Are you really Byron's bodyguards?"

The bodyguard pointed to another cage. "Ms. Reese, please identify this man. Was he one of the kidnappers?"

Maeve looked and nodded. "Yes," recognizing the man who'd dragged Karen away.

"Good," the bodyguard said. "Mr. McDaniel wants to know whether you kidnapped Karen Booth."

"No!" Maeve denied vehemently. "I've never kidnapped Karen Booth."

"Haha," the kidnapper in the other cage laughed roughly. "Ms. Reese, you're forgetful. How can you forget us so quickly?"

Maeve frowned. "What do you mean? I don't know you at all."

"The truth's been exposed. You won't dare admit you know me," the kidnapper sneered. "But I remember your voice. You asked us to cooperate on the phone."

The final sentence fragment ("G") and the repeated website promotion were removed as they were irrelevant to the narrative and disrupted the flow.