Her parents never loved her. It wasn't because she was a daughter, unable to support the family; they simply didn't love her. Perhaps her past compliance stemmed from this painful understanding, a desperate hope for their affection.

Byron raised his head, staring at Maeve. He then raised his arms, gently pressing his warm fingers to the corners of her red, tear-filled eyes. "In the past," he said, "parents believed overly luxurious environments weakened a child's character and abilities, even rendering them useless adults."

Maeve blinked, confused by the sudden shift in topic. Byron's eyes narrowed. "So they'd abandon a child in a remote place, replacing them with another."

Maeve's eyes narrowed in return. "Why? How could parents be so cruel?"

Byron chuckled, a cold sound. "Ruthless? Perhaps it's called 'tempering.'"

"What the hell?" Maeve almost swore. She knew eagles sometimes pushed their young from nests to encourage flight—a survival strategy resulting in broken wings or successful flight. But she'd never seen such cruelty in humans. Abandoning a child, replacing him with an imposter, then pitting the two against each other in a fight to the death? "Are you serious? Does Gilbert know?" Maeve's indignation eclipsed her pain. "You're just going to tolerate this? I wouldn't! I'd demand an explanation!"

The coldness in Byron's eyes melted. He chuckled, his mood noticeably lighter. "It's fake," he said casually. "Maeve, you're so gullible. No wonder your parents control you."

Maeve was shocked, speechless. "You're lying?!" Sadness followed her disbelief. "I'm furious, and you're lying?" She'd assumed it was something from his childhood, fueled by Neville's actions. But he'd lied.

His smile was enigmatic. "Why? Do you feel sorry for me?"

Maeve gritted her teeth. "Who cares about you? I'm just appalled by such cold-blooded parents!" It made sense; even if Byron's parents had wanted to do that, Gilbert wouldn't have stood idly by.

Byron disagreed, looking deeply into her eyes. "There are many cold-blooded people in the world. So-called blood relations mean nothing. If you don't know what to do, don't do anything." He would act for her.

Maeve's anger yielded to an indescribable emotion. Byron was despicable sometimes, seeing through her, holding her anxieties captive. She couldn't resist his gentleness, even knowing he'd be equally gentle with Lynn.

"I know. I was just being stubborn," Maeve lowered her eyes, smiling. "I always yearned for a loving father and a gentle mother; it became an obsession."

Byron removed the ice pack from her knees. "Though I can't satisfy your second wish, I can reluctantly fulfill the first."

Maeve looked at him suspiciously. "How?"

Byron opened his arms, his expression serious. "I can be your strict but loving father. Come, let's hug."

Maeve was speechless, then exclaimed, "Byron, are you crazy?"

An angry, shameful outburst filled the car. "You still try to take advantage of me? Shameless! How obsessed are men with being someone else's father? Hug? In your dreams!"

In the game hall, Theo swaggered to the claw machine, pulling his hoodie over his head. He was afraid of looking foolish if he played badly. Logically, anyone could win a prize with enough money, but Theo never did. Dozens of coins later, he still had nothing.

Leaning against the machine in despair, he didn't notice a man in a smoky gray trench coat watching him. The man, in a black beanie and scarf, his hands in his pockets, had been observing Theo for half an hour. The man's eyes seemed to dim slightly. He would wait until the child left.

Theo realized he had only one coin left—his mother allowed only ten dollars. He inserted the last coin, closed his eyes, and blindly grabbed. Something fell out. He'd won! Turning, he saw the man still watching him. "Sir, why do you keep looking at me?"

The man seemed stunned, staring for a long time before replying slowly, "Watching you grab the toys."

Theo found the man odd, his vitality waning like a dying tree. There was no life in those warm eyes. Theo frowned, staring back. His eyes...felt so familiar.