Her daughter retorted, "Are you going to ruin my happiness for the sake of the company? Have you ever considered how I feel?"

Maeve placed the coffee in front of them and remained silent. After her daughter's questioning, the mother became more infuriated. "Are you going to watch our company be annexed by the opponent? That's your father's life's work! How could you be so selfish?" The daughter fell silent.

The mother looked pained. "We cherished you like a princess. We raised you and educated you. We've given you everything you've ever wanted. Is this how you repay us? Your boyfriend doesn't even have a proper job. What can he give you? Don't talk to me about love; love can't feed you." Maeve blinked. As a mother, she understood the mother's worries about her daughter's future. However, she knew this young woman might not be able to accept this approach.

Unexpectedly, the daughter finally compromised. "I know," she said, laughing self-deprecatingly. "You've spent your lives raising me. Now it's my turn, right? It's just marrying an older man. Alright, I'll do it."

Her mother's expression softened. "That's my good daughter."

Seeing they had finished talking, Maeve naturally asked, "What styles are you interested in?"

As the mother was about to answer, her daughter interrupted, "I'll listen to you on everything else, but I should at least choose my own wedding dress, right?" The mother hesitated for a moment, then agreed.

"I like simple ones. They're more convenient to move around in. The wedding will be a tough day for me; I want to relax," her daughter requested.

Maeve's eyes narrowed slightly. She sensed a subtext in her words. She quickly recovered and, with a smile, opened a page. "Take a look. What about this?"

"Yes, but the hemline could be shorter," the girl smiled.

Maeve completely understood and sighed inwardly. But the girl's mother, still drinking her coffee, remained oblivious to her daughter's true feelings. "Alright, I'll send the design to you by tomorrow night at the latest," Maeve nodded.

After they left, Maeve received a call from Gwynn. Gwynn called periodically; Maeve was the only one who knew about her failed relationship, and there were things only they could share. Maeve learned that Gwynn's ex-boyfriend had persistently tried to reconcile, but she was tired of his pestering.

"He wants to help me buy a wedding dress now, but unfortunately, I don't need it anymore," Gwynn said. "It's not that I can't afford a wedding dress, but only people who don't love me would think I care that much about a gown."

Maeve heard the relief in her tone and smiled. "I wish you the best."

"You too," Gwynn said softly. "Thank you."

After work, Maeve drove to pick up Theo and went home. The door of the apartment opposite was open. Maeve looked inside. The living room, empty that morning, was now filled with household items.

She was surprised by Byron's efficiency. He'd only said he'd think about it that morning, yet everything seemed arranged. The interior decoration was ready-made; only furniture was lacking, a task that would take considerable time.

Maeve's bright eyes met Byron's as he emerged from the bedroom.

"Come in and have a seat?" Byron raised his eyebrows slightly. "Just finished."

Maeve quietly hid Theo behind the door and looked around. "Will isn't here?"

Byron said, "He took his medicine at noon. He's still half asleep."

Maeve felt anxious but maintained a calm facade. "What's wrong with him?"

"It's an old problem," Byron said, looking at her. "Since he was born."

Maeve recalled the critical situation at Will's birth. Her heart felt icy cold and trembled. She couldn't press further in front of Byron, so she changed the subject. "Did you buy groceries?"

Byron's gaze inadvertently swept across the refrigerator. His dark eyes flickered. "No, I forgot."

"Then bring Will over for dinner later. What does he like to eat?" Maeve invited.

Byron listed a few of Will's favorite dishes. The moment Maeve heard them, she realized Will was unlike Theo, who was never picky.

Theo felt his mother's gaze and blinked innocently. Do you hear my stomach growling? Night fell.

After dinner, the two boys unknowingly swapped places. Theo swaggered into the apartment opposite, chubby hands behind his back, looking like an overseer.

Byron sat on the sofa, legs elegantly crossed, half-closed eyes focused on business on his laptop. He saw Theo approach but ignored him. Unexpectedly, Theo patted him on the shoulder and said earnestly, "Young man, I heard you've been very arrogant recently."

Byron rolled his eyes in confusion. "Speak properly," he warned.

Theo, unafraid, leaned closer, his small eyes glancing at Byron's laptop. "What are you doing?"

"Business," Byron replied, not looking at him.

"So you're making money?" Theo asked.

"Yeah," Byron said, still focused on the screen. (The sentence about searching FindNovel.net is removed as it's an advertisement.)

"How much money do you have?" the little boy asked curiously.

Byron stopped typing and rubbed his head. "What are you trying to say?"

Theo's eyes darted around, then he smiled and held out his hand. "I want pocket money."

Byron raised an eyebrow. This was a first. He moved his laptop and took out his wallet. "How much do you want?"

Theo thought he meant cash. When he saw the numerous bank cards, his eyes widened. "Wow! You're so rich! Then why don't you pay Mommy's rent?"

Byron saw Theo's face inching closer to his wallet. He chuckled and placed his hand on Theo's forehead. "What? Do you want them all? He hadn't realized his son was so materialistic.

"I'm not that greedy," Theo said, looking enviously at the wallet and licking his lips. "Then I'll just take one at random?"

Byron handed over his wallet. "Yes, whichever card you draw is yours."

Theo immediately rolled up his sleeves and stared at the cards. It was time to use his lucky hand.