Maeve's heart pounded as she realized the extent of her trouble. She tried to escape, but her coworkers blocked her path. "Maeve, don't be so uptight," one teased with a smug grin.

"Yeah, we heard about you and Jeff," another chimed in, nudging her forward. "He's been waiting for you. Isn't this the perfect time to sort things out?"

It clicked for Maeve—this was a setup.

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She shoved their hands away. "What's your deal? Did you conspire to lure me here?"

Her coworkers exchanged uncomfortable glances. "Lure you? We're just trying to help. Jeff's a catch. You could do worse. Why be so stubborn?"

Jeff's friends, lounging nearby, joined in. "Jeff went out of his way to patch things up. You should be grateful, not give him attitude."

"A little sass is cute," one sneered, his leering gaze making her skin crawl, "but too much makes you look like a stuck-up bitch."

Maeve's eyes narrowed as she met Jeff's stare. "We're done, Jeff. How many times do I have to say it?"

That was the last straw for Jeff. He jumped from the couch, grabbed Maeve by the collar, and snarled, "You think I'll let you embarrass me like that? Asking you back is a favor, and you'd better show some damn gratitude!"

"Let go of me!" Maeve snapped, disgusted. "I'm not getting back with you. And don't think I'm stupid—I know why you want to marry me. You need me to secure your dad's inheritance, right? You can't make it on your own, so you're using me. Pathetic!"

Jeff's face reddened with fury. After days locked up, his father had pulled strings to get him out. What had been easy was now an uphill battle. Enraged, his father had threatened to hand Jeff's position over to Nestor, his older brother. Their rivalry was cutthroat, each hell-bent on claiming their spot in the Graves family business. Marrying Maeve was his only ticket to stay in the game against Nestor. His father had a soft spot for Maeve. Jeff figured marrying her...

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That thought enraged Jeff. He yanked at Maeve's shirt, tearing it and exposing her skin. Maeve's eyes widened in terror as his face came closer, but she turned her head.

"You'd better get with the program!" Jeff's eyes were bloodshot as his hand tightened around her throat. "You think you have a choice? Once I'm done with you, you'll marry me!" He turned to his friends. "Get the cameras rolling!"

The group cheered. "Hell yeah! This is gonna be wild! Jeff, you're the man!"

As the cameras pointed at her, Maeve felt panic. She tried to break free, but Jeff shoved her against the table. His face, twisted with rage, closed in, surrounded by the crude cheers of his friends and the cold stares of her colleagues.

Desperate, Maeve grabbed a heavy ashtray and smashed it over Jeff's head. The sound of breaking glass shattered the room as Jeff yelled in pain, his grip loosening.

Taking advantage of his confusion, Maeve grabbed a fruit knife and drove it into the back of his hand. Jeff screamed as he crumpled to the floor, his arm twitching uncontrollably, sweat pouring down his face.

"Holy shit! Did she just do that?" one guy blurted out.

"Maeve, have you lost your damn mind? Aren't you afraid the Graves family will come after you?" another stuttered, the group frozen in shock.

Maeve yanked out the knife, brandishing the bloodied blade. Her face was pale, but her eyes were hard.

"You think I have anything left to lose? Go ahead, try me. You mess with me, you better be ready for the consequences. I might not take all of you down, but a few of you are coming with me." Her words sent a shiver down everyone's spine, including Jeff.

No one had ever thought the seemingly fragile Maeve could be so terrifying. She stood fierce and unyielding. Despite their numbers, none wanted to face her.

"What are you all waiting for? Open the door and let her out!" Jeff shouted, his fear overshadowing his anger. He was closest to her and knew he'd be the first to pay if she snapped.

"We were just screwing around! Don't do anything crazy!" one guy pleaded, fumbling to open the door.

Maeve kept her grip on the knife, her eyes never leaving them as she slowly backed towards the exit. Reaching the door, she flung the knife at them before bolting out.

Maeve ran until her legs gave out. Exhausted, she collapsed onto a roadside bench, massaging her sore calves. She'd left her coat and handbag behind, and had no way to hail a cab. The night air was cool. She gazed up at the crescent moon, her thoughts drifting.

She'd been in only one relationship before, and it had ended disastrously. "Is this what love is supposed to be, or am I just unlucky enough to end up with a psycho? Maybe I'm just not cut out for relationships," she thought.

As she looked down, she met the curious eyes of a scruffy brown dog.

"Woof woof?" The dog barked.

Maeve tried to ignore it, but the dog barked louder.

Frustrated, she snapped, "What's your problem? Even you want to pick on me now?" The dog bared its teeth.

"Do you think I'm scared of you?" Maeve retorted, rolling up her sleeves. Just then, a car horn blared. A sleek black Maybach pulled up, and Byron's face appeared in the window.

"Maeve," Byron said, amused. "What the hell are you doing? It's late, and you're arguing with a dog in the street…"

This cleaned-up version removes the advertisement, corrects grammatical errors, improves punctuation, and clarifies ambiguous sentences. Some sentences were removed or altered due to being unclear or nonsensical in their original form. The narrative flow has also been improved.