Before Maeve could finish her last word, Byron pinched her chin and leaned down, biting her red lips hard. Tears filled Maeve's eyes as she frowned in pain. "It hurts! What are you doing?" Byron narrowed his eyes, glancing at the fresh marks on her lips before saying casually, "I'm just waking you up."

The corners of Maeve's mouth twitched at his mockery. Fortunately, Byron's phone rang, rescuing her from the immediate crisis.

While he left the bedroom to answer it, Maeve sat up, rushed to the table, and retrieved the pregnancy test from her bag, frantically searching for a hiding place. Byron was too shrewd; hiding it on her person was too risky.

She needed to delay telling him, but first, she had to find a safe spot. A terrifying thought struck her: this was his bedroom; no hiding place was truly secure.

Footsteps approached from outside the door. Worried Byron would be suspicious if he saw her sneaking around, she hastily stuffed the test into an empty vase.

Turning around, she found Byron already there, frowning. "What are you doing?"

Maeve laughed nervously, patting the vase. "I thought it was an antique. I was just looking at it closer." She trailed off, knowing her explanation was unconvincing.

Byron sensed something was amiss, but didn't press her. "Show me the medicine the doctor prescribed."

Maeve was stunned. "Stomach medicine? It's in my bag…" Before she could finish, she saw her bag on the table beside Byron and clamped her mouth shut. Byron followed her gaze, his long fingers reaching for the bag strap. "Is it in here?"

Maeve's breath hitched; her heart pounded.

"Wait!" She practically leaped in front of him, snatching the bag and pulling it back. "I'll get it!"

Fear that he'd see the test made her actions only fuel his curiosity. He not only refused to relinquish the bag but also playfully pinched her hand. Narrowing his eyes, he asked, "I'm just looking for your medicine. Why are you so nervous? Is there something in there you don't want me to see?" He suspected she was hiding something else besides the test.

His sharp perceptiveness terrified her. Under his dark gaze, she almost confessed everything.

"Of course not!" Maeve gritted her teeth. "I have lots of sanitary pads in my bag!"

Byron's probing gaze faltered.

Maeve, seeing an opening, continued, "It's not just pads. There are also… well, you know… women's things. My privacy!"

At this, Byron instantly released the bag, turning to cough awkwardly. "Why didn't you say so earlier?"

"You have to give me a chance," Maeve replied, hugging the bag tightly, secretly relieved.

His back to her, Byron's ear tips, visible beneath his black hair, flushed slightly. In a low voice, he said, "Get your medicine."

Maeve quickly retrieved the stomach medicine, thankfully separate from the folic acid prescribed by the gynecologist. The complex labeling on the folic acid bottle would have been difficult to explain. She closed her bag, poking Byron's arm. "Here."

Byron nodded, photographed the medicine, and sent it to Harold, who replied instantly.

"Don't take these medicines for now. Dr. Foster will send you medicinal meals starting tomorrow to help you recover," Byron said calmly. A warm feeling spread through Maeve's heart.

It might have seemed a small thing to him, but for someone of his stature, this level of consideration was rare. To her, it felt incredibly meaningful to be taken seriously.

The gesture almost prompted her to tell him about the pregnancy, but she held back. There would be another opportunity.

The next morning, Nightfall Manor delivered the medicinal cuisine. Maeve tasted it, exclaiming at its deliciousness—no bitter medicinal taste whatsoever. Byron emerged from the bathroom. Seeing her intoxicated expression, he raised an eyebrow. "Is it good?" "Yeah!" Maeve nodded enthusiastically. "Dr. Foster is amazing! No wonder he's so highly paid."

"He's married," Byron said indifferently, pulling out a chair. "And he has two daughters."

Maeve was stunned. "What does that have to do with me? I'm not…"

Byron took a sip of coffee. "That's good." Replacing such a familiar doctor would be troublesome.

Unaware she'd nearly jeopardized Harold's career, Maeve stirred her oatmeal. "Dr. Foster looks so young to have two daughters."

Byron didn't respond; he wasn't interested in others' personal lives.

Maeve, clutching her spoon, casually asked, "Byron, why don't you like kids?"

"Is that necessary?" Byron ate slowly, his expression impassive. "I've always avoided troublesome things."

Is a child a troublesome thing to you? Maeve's emotions were conflicted. The delicious oatmeal suddenly tasted bland. "So you don't plan to have children?"

"Yeah." His tone was nonchalant.

"What if… you did?" Maeve's heart pounded; her palms sweated.

Byron's eyes darkened as he ambiguously asked, "Maeve, are you testing me?"

"I'm just curious," Maeve said, taking a sip of oatmeal to mask her panic. "Because you seem to strongly dislike children, yet you're the only son of the McDaniel family."

"So, you're just curious?" Byron's voice held a hint of mockery. "Maeve, regardless of your intentions, remember what I said last time."

Maeve clenched her fists.

Byron seemed to lose his appetite. He picked up his watch, adjusted his cuffs, his tone remaining calm. "In my life, there are no 'what ifs.' Even if there were, I wouldn't allow it to exist." His gaze fell on her profile, obscured by her hair. "Don't risk challenging my boundaries. It's for both our sakes."

He picked up his jacket and strode out. Maeve remained at the table, her face pale.