Lynn looked as if she were about to cry. "I just want to help you. Why do you hate me so much?" "I don't," Byron softened. "You can leave now. I have many important things to do." "Alright, but promise you'll have dinner with me."

"I will."

Only then did Lynn leave, satisfied. Afterward, Byron lowered his gaze and slowly released the pen in his right hand. It fell on the table with a crisp sound as his eyes darkened. The pen was broken in two, and scarlet blood stains marred it. The sight was shocking.

After a long time, Byron raised his hand and pressed his office phone. "Find out who has been sabotaging Maeve's studio recently. Give me an update as soon as possible."

"Will do, Mr. McDaniel," Archer replied respectfully.

Outside the building, Maeve walked to the side of the road. Suddenly, Lynn's voice came from behind. "Ms. Reese, wait a moment."

Maeve turned around, annoyed. "What is it this time?"

"Let's talk."

"We have nothing to talk about."

"I know you hate me. After all, you're Byron's ex-wife. I know you can't stand me," Lynn said with a smile. "But let me tell you this: The more hostile you are to me, the more Byron cares about me. Looking at it that way, I think you're quite pitiful."

Maeve looked unfazed. "Is that so? Well, I'll take your word for it."

"You're still in love with him, aren't you? Otherwise, you wouldn't have come looking for him. However, let me be clear: you have no chance. He's mine now!" Lynn declared proudly.

In the past, Maeve would probably have argued with facts and evidence. She would never steal another woman's man and valued her dignity. But after everything she'd been through, she couldn't be bothered to say a word. But on second thought... "You know what, Lynn? You're right, he's yours. Please keep him—and his penis—to yourselves."

Lynn chuckled. "Don't worry. With me around, he won't even look at other people, let alone you."

Maeve wasn't sure who was being hostile. But at that moment, Lynn suddenly leaned back, about to fall. Maeve thought she was trying to frame her. Countless scenes of being framed flashed through her mind. So, she hurriedly grabbed her hand and pulled her back. A car happened to pass by on the side of the road.

Realizing how close she was to the car, Lynn's face turned pale. She leaned against Maeve's shoulder, looking faint. But Maeve immediately pushed her away. "There are surveillance cameras here. So, if you try to frame me, you'd better think carefully."

Lynn shook her head. She grabbed Maeve's collar and breathed heavily, as if frightened. Maeve inadvertently glanced at her Adam's apple under her collar and frowned. "Hold on, why is his Adam's apple so prominent? Is Lynn..."

"Why did you use so much strength just now? My hand is hurting from your grip!" Lynn complained.

Maeve snapped back to reality. When she heard this, she was instantly furious. "I shouldn't have saved you! I should have let you fall and become a meat pie on the road for passersby to admire!"

Lynn was so disgusted by her description that she almost vomited, holding onto a road sign. Meanwhile, Maeve hailed a taxi and got in immediately. She couldn't be bothered with that entitled little princess with a main character complex. Maeve was frustrated. That night, she called Bonnie and asked her out to a bar. It was Friday. She still had to take Theo to the hospital on Saturday, so she promised herself some restraint. She needed to wake up early.

However, she was so frustrated. She'd promised herself only two drinks, but the liquor was so smooth. In the end, she lost track of how much she'd had. Bonnie carried her back to her apartment.

Theo ran out in his cow pajamas. Seeing his drunk mother, he pouted, "Why does my mom look drunk? She'll have a headache tomorrow."

"Your mom is upset. Let her drink her stress out for once. She'll be fine," Bonnie waved her hand. "Do you want me to stay and help you take care of her?"

"No need. I can take care of her myself." Theo skillfully went to the kitchen to make hangover soup, then to the bathroom to get two warm towels. He handed one to Bonnie and the other to Maeve to wipe her face, neck, and hands. Maeve hummed comfortably and didn't even want to open her eyes. Bonnie held her towel, envious. She might be divorced, but at least she had her cute and considerate Theo.

After the hangover soup, Bonnie went home. Maeve forced herself awake. When she saw Theo squatting beside her, staring, she smiled helplessly. "I'm fine. Go back to your room and sleep."

Theo didn't say anything. He puffed up his cheeks and continued to stare. Maeve immediately raised her hands in surrender. "Alright, I promise I won't drink again."

Maeve knew her alcohol tolerance was low. It had been a long time since she'd drunk. But that night, she couldn't help but drink to drown her sorrows. It was all thanks to that bastard Byron.

Theo smiled at her promise. He stretched out his hand. "Then let's pinky swear!"

Maeve pinky swore. Afterward, Theo returned to his room while Maeve fell onto her pillow and slept soundly.

The clock ticked toward midnight. The apartment door opened, and warm light from the corridor outlined a tall figure. His footsteps were unsteady, and the strong smell of alcohol clung to him. He turned on the living room lights and walked toward the bathroom. After a while, the sound of splashing water could be heard.

After leaving the bathroom, Byron sobered up slightly. He casually put on a black bathrobe and walked to the main bedroom. He came every Friday to stay the night. It was a habit ingrained over many years. Even after drinking too much with Ray and his friends, he hadn't forgotten to have the driver send him there.

Maeve's yelling suddenly echoed in his mind. Byron pushed his hair back in frustration, his expression turning cold. He knew he had to change this unnecessary habit. Just as their marriage was a thing of the past, he needed to move on. He thought calmly, then pushed open the main bedroom door and walked straight to the bed to lie down. In the silent darkness, Byron's alcohol-numbed nerves gradually relaxed. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Suddenly, a soft, warm touch nestled into his arms. A faint, familiar fragrance entered his nose—the same scent he'd smelled on countless nights four years ago. It tugged at his heartstrings. It was the reason he could calm down, but also his greatest aphrodisiac. That night, it was the latter.

Maeve felt... she was in a furnace in her sleep. Her body felt as if heating up, and even the air she breathed became hot. Her skin began to be covered in a thin layer of sweat. She wanted to move, but her waist seemed to be held in place by an iron claw, and her limbs were immobile. A pair of well-defined, slightly calloused hands moved around her most sensitive area, as if intimately familiar with every point that could make her melt and weaken.

(Note: The final sentence is incomplete.)