A trace of surprise flickered across Byron's eyes, though he probably didn't expect her to notice. He took another sip of coffee unhurriedly. "You misunderstood," he said.

Maeve was stunned. "What?"

"Before I returned to the McDaniel family, Neville was their biological son."

Maeve's eyes widened slightly. Was that what she'd been thinking? If so, why had the McDaniel family kept Neville? Why had they let him stay, even treating him better than Byron? Even if Neville hadn't orchestrated the identity swap, he was the one who benefited. He owed Byron. How could the McDaniel family do that? It was ridiculous.

For a moment, Maeve felt overwhelmed and her heart ached. However, seeing Byron's calm demeanor, she gradually felt relieved. She knew he didn't need anyone's pity. His current position was the best revenge against the McDaniel family's unfair treatment.

Byron noticed the shift in Maeve's emotions. She hadn't offered the superficial comforts he was used to—and even hated.

"How about I cook you dinner tonight?" Maeve suggested. "Delicious food solves most of the world's problems. If one meal doesn't work, then two."

Byron laughed. His low, deep voice, as rich and pleasant as a cello, revealed a hint of joy. "Good idea."

After work, they went to the market. The environment wasn't ideal. Byron frowned slightly. "Why don't we go to the supermarket?"

"The ingredients here are fresher and cheaper," Maeve said easily. "Plus, I know the shopkeepers; they give me a discount. I guarantee the freshness."

Byron said nothing, watching as she chose ingredients and haggled with the vendors. Her soft voice sounded charming. Byron's eyebrows twitched. He grabbed her wrist, pulling her behind him.

"What's wrong?" Maeve asked, confused.

"I have money," Byron said in a deep voice. "I don't need you to be so frugal."

Maeve refused firmly. "No, we can't live extravagantly. What if we go bankrupt and can't adjust our mentality? We need to be independent from the start."

Byron was speechless. He didn't understand why she'd acted so charming with the vendors for a few dollars. And she actually thought he would go bankrupt? He was so angry he almost laughed.

"Even if you squandered my assets every day for the rest of your life, you wouldn't bankrupt me," he said coldly. "Try it if you don't believe me." He wanted to see if she could spend it all.

Maeve opened her mouth. She'd only been making an analogy! Why was he so serious?

At that moment, the butcher approached, handing Maeve the beef with a smile. "Maeve, is this your boyfriend? You two are well-suited."

"No, he's not," Maeve subconsciously denied. "Do you want me to introduce you to an outstanding young man? He'd be perfect for you," the butcher offered warmly.

Maeve didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "No, thank you."

She regretted denying Byron was her boyfriend. Middle-aged people loved matchmaking.

Byron paid, glancing at Maeve coldly. "Let's go, honey," he said, then walked away.

Maeve was shocked. What was he doing? The butcher was shocked too. Honey? They were married?

After buying the ingredients and returning to the car, Maeve was still reeling. She secretly watched Byron's expressionless face. "Did you just call me 'honey'?" she asked curiously.

Byron drove out of the parking lot, his expression unchanged. "What?"

"Just now," Maeve whispered, her ears burning. "Didn't you call me 'honey'?"

"You heard wrong," Byron said calmly. "I said 'hurry.'"

Maeve was speechless. Honey? Hurry? Did she mishear?

Byron turned, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Why? Did you want me to call you 'honey' so badly you hallucinated?"

Maeve felt shy and embarrassed, her face reddening. "No! You made me mishear!"

"Maeve, true self-reliance is daring to face your own heart."

"I said I didn't! Shut up!"

Byron laughed softly, his eyes filled with amusement. How gullible.

Later, at Nightfall Manor, after dinner, Maeve showered to wash away the smell of food. Emerging from the bathroom, she saw Byron, in dark loungewear. "Want to watch a movie, courtesy of this meal?" he asked.

"Now?" Maeve looked at the clock. "Isn't it too late for the cinema?"

"I have a home theater in the basement."

Maeve followed him to the first-floor cinema. Seeing the extravagant equipment and luxurious sofa, she clicked her tongue. He was so rich!

"A movie's incomplete without popcorn and Coke," she muttered. "Money can't buy happiness."

Byron heard her soft voice and texted the butler. Soon, a servant wheeled in a cart laden with Coke, a popcorn machine, desserts, and snacks. Maeve numbly thanked him. These rich people! Their lives were so extravagant!

Byron handed her an iPad. "Choose what you want to watch."

Maeve remembered the movie they'd watched in the hospital when he was injured. She'd forgotten the plot, but remembered the warmth of his skin and his shallow breaths near her ear.

She quickly looked away, hiding her sudden panic. "This one," she said, choosing a seemingly innocent film to avoid any awkwardness from their last movie-watching experience. There would definitely be no more problems!

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