After a satisfying meal, Maeve waited for Byron to finish his shower and change his bandages before heading to bed. She braced herself for Jeff's retaliation, but two days passed without incident. Maeve stayed home for two days, skipping work, and on Monday, she went straight to the company to resign.

As she left the office, a few colleagues stopped her and handed her a handbag. "Maeve," one said, "you left this at the club the other night. Since you haven't been in the office for the past couple of days, we kept it for you."

"We're really sorry about that day," another colleague added. "We believed Mr. Graves when he said he wanted to make amends, and we never thought things would escalate so quickly."

Another chimed in, "We were just as shocked as you were, which is why we didn't intervene sooner. Maybe we could hang out sometime?"

Maeve kept her expression cool, despite their eager smiles. "Thanks for returning my bag," she said flatly. "But we were never that close, and I don't see any reason for us to hang out in the future."

As she stepped out of the company building, the warm autumn sun felt like a breath of fresh air. No more pretending to enjoy a job she hated—what a relief!

Instead of heading straight back to her apartment, Maeve decided to visit First Hospital for a check-up. Thankfully, Dr. Ray George gave her the all-clear—nothing serious to worry about. He advised her to maintain a light diet, get regular exercise, and take care of her stomach. Regarding her hand injury, he told her to keep it dry and avoid heavy lifting. A few days' rest, and she'd be back on her feet in no time.

"Oh, by the way," Maeve said casually, "my brother's hurt too, but he can't come to the hospital. Could you take a look at a photo and prescribe something for him?" Ray nodded. "Sure, show me the photo." Maeve quickly handed over her phone.

Ray's expression tightened as he glanced at the image. Even though it only showed part of the injury, his medical instincts kicked in. He recognized it as Byron's.

Ray adjusted his thin-framed glasses and gave Maeve a curious look. "This injury looks pretty serious. It would be best if he came in."

"He really can't make it," Maeve replied, looking uneasy.

Ray nodded. "Alright, I'll prescribe something. But I'll need his personal details." Maeve provided Ray with her brother Horace's details instead, deliberately avoiding any mention of Byron. She didn't know why Byron was staying away from the hospital, but she was determined to keep his condition secret—even from a doctor.

Ray paused, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. He'd heard Byron rarely had women around him, except for Karen. Yet here was this young woman, clearly important enough to keep his secrets. This was some juicy gossip Ray would love to share with Byron.

After leaving the hospital, Maeve stopped by the grocery store for some ingredients before heading back to her apartment.

As the soup simmered on the stove, Maeve's phone buzzed with a few new messages from Bonnie Hancock, a wealthy patron Maeve had met when she first started working as an illustrator. Bonnie was a dedicated client who always supported Maeve's work and had a particular passion for fan art. She claimed to be "allergic to real-life men," preferring animated characters instead. Bonnie also had a special fondness for comics featuring these characters in various roles. Maeve had even taken on jobs as a maid and a gardener just to gather material for Bonnie's requests.

Bonnie's message read: [Maeve! I've got a new husband! This time, I want to see him as a bartender, doing all sorts of things at the bar. Can you take it on?]

Maeve chuckled. As expected, Bonnie switched out her fictional husbands faster than she changed clothes. Thanks to Bonnie's fickle tastes and frequent recommendations, Maeve had managed to save a decent amount of money.

Maeve replied: [I've got time. What does your new husband look like?]

Bonnie responded with a flood of pictures.

Bonnie: [Look! Isn't he incredibly handsome? I'm totally obsessed with him right now—my heart races just thinking about him!]

Maeve couldn't help but laugh. If Bonnie channeled even half as much passion into real life as she did into her animated crushes, her parents wouldn't be constantly nagging her about marriage.

Maeve: [He's definitely handsome. Any specific requests? I'll start working on it after I do some research.]

Bonnie: [Just do your thing like always. I trust your taste—you never disappoint!]

Bonnie: [By the way, are you thinking of working as a bartender to gather material? If so, check out Starlight Pub—it's the best in Kleymond! I've heard the owner's even hotter than a movie star, though I've never seen him myself.]

Maeve thought for a moment before replying. [Sounds good. I'll see if I can get hired there. I just quit my job, so I've got the time.]

Bonnie: [You're so dedicated! Can't wait to hear the good news!]

Maeve smiled, set her phone aside, and headed to the kitchen to check on the soup.

In the top-floor office of the McDaniel Group, sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, but the tension in the room was thick and heavy. An elderly man in a dark green suit sat on the sofa, gripping a black cane. Despite his silver hair and beard, he radiated vitality; his eyes were sharp and intelligent, and his presence commanding. This was Byron's grandfather, Gilbert. Byron, seated across from him, calmly poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Gilbert.

"What brings you here, Grandpa? Got something on your mind?"

"I heard you were banged up pretty badly," Gilbert replied, ignoring the coffee. "Is that why you've been dodging home? Afraid your father and I would find out?"

"Who told you that?" Byron sipped his coffee casually. "If I were seriously injured, how could I still be here?"

"Cut the crap. Lift your shirt. Let me see," Gilbert demanded.

Byron's expression darkened, but he remained seated. "I have no clue where you got that nonsense. I've got a lot on my plate right now. If there's nothing else, I need to get back to work."

Gilbert's voice sharpened with anger. "Do you have any respect for me as your grandfather?"

"Of course I do," Byron replied indifferently. "Didn't I go along with your decision to keep Neville in the family?"

Gilbert's anger faltered. It was clear Byron still held a grudge about the Neville situation and wasn't ready to let it go. Technically, Neville wasn't a blood relative of the McDaniels and should have been sent away when Byron returned to the family. But Byron's parents had their sentimental reasons for keeping him, and Gilbert had his own agenda. It was always a sore point, a debt they owed Byron.

Gilbert's tone softened. "Just let me see the injury so I know how bad it is."

Byron sighed, his expression one of resignation. "I've told you, I'm not injured. Do you really think I'd lie to you?"

Gilbert snorted. "You already lied to me about getting married! If you really did, why haven't you brought her home for me to meet?"

"I will, soon. I've just been swamped with work."

"You'd better be telling the truth!"

Gilbert tapped his cane in frustration. With nothing more to say, he and the private doctor left. As the door clicked shut, Byron's expression hardened, turning cold as ice.