Maeve instinctively grabbed the doorframe. "Wait! No! Don't go into my house!" She was worried Byron would see Theo without a disguise.

"What?" His reaction aroused a trace of suspicion in Byron. "Is there something in there that can't be seen?"

"The living room is a mess right now," Maeve blurted out, "I left a bunch of my undergarments untied. I have to avoid arousing suspicion!"

Byron lowered his long, narrow eyes and looked at her with a probing gaze. "What did you do with Tom inside just now?"

Only then did Maeve realize her words could easily be misunderstood, especially since Tom Hum had just left.

"It's Leo's personal clothes, not mine!" Maeve said, breaking into a cold sweat. "What are you thinking about?"

"The kid's here, too?"

"Of course! His mother returned to Erancia a while ago and entrusted him to me," Maeve said calmly.

Byron's expression softened. "Go to my place."

Maeve had no choice. To prevent him from entering her apartment, she followed him. After entering, she looked around. "Is Will not here?"

"He's taking a shower," Byron answered casually. He walked to the sofa and sat down. "Come here."

Maeve pursed her lips and walked over reluctantly. She wanted to sit further away, but as soon as she approached, he held her wrist and forced her to sit in front of him. He didn't give her a chance to say no.

Maeve squirmed a few times, but he grabbed her waist and warned, "Don't move."

Her cheeks puffed up slightly. This domineering tyrant! she thought.

To help her injured knee, Maeve wore a loose knitted dress. At that moment, the hem of her skirt was rolled up above her knees, revealing slender calves. Her skin was soft and delicate, making the bruise on her knee look especially terrifying.

Byron's eyes darkened. "Is this what you meant by 'healed'?"

Maeve scratched her cheek, embarrassed. She'd said it to dismiss him. She hadn't expected him to inspect it; he was even more concerned than her father.

"Give me the medicine," Byron said in a deep voice.

"I can apply it myself," Maeve shook her head. "It's not like my hand is injured."

"The doctor asked you to rub the clotted blood away with the ointment. Who asked you to apply it?"

Recalling the pain from the doctor's massage that afternoon, Maeve silently took out the ointment and handed it to Byron. If she did it herself, she'd cut corners because she was afraid of the pain.

Byron closed his eyes. He rubbed the ointment on his palm and covered her knee. His movements were precise. His technique was a little rusty, but the steps were the same as the doctor's. This meant the pain Maeve felt was the same as before.

Initially, Maeve could tolerate it, but towards the end, she gasped softly.

Byron asked, "Does it hurt a lot?"

Maeve was in too much pain to speak. She nodded, her eyes red-rimmed.

Byron slowed down and looked up at her. "Then should we do something else to divert your attention?"

"Do what?" Maeve was confused.

Byron chuckled softly. He wrapped his free hand around the back of her neck, pressing her head close. His voice grew hoarse. "This." He lowered his head and kissed her. Maeve's eyes widened, her heart pounding. Fine electric currents shot through her body.

She tried to push him away, but he gently pinched the soft flesh at the back of her neck and twisted it with his fingertips—her sensitive spot. This instantly removed her ability to struggle.

Probably because of the ointment, her knee and body started to heat up. She didn't know if it was anger or embarrassment.

Moving half an inch away, Byron asked in a hoarse voice, "Has he ever been like this with you?" Maeve's eyes filled with tears. She panted unsteadily. "Who?"

"The man who is at your door."

Byron's thin lips curled up. He kissed her again. His voice was muffled. "Very good." Are you done yet? Maeve thought.

She gripped his sleeve, secretly wanting to bite his tongue. However, she'd done this too many times. Byron didn't give her a chance this time. Instead, he bit the tip of her tongue and sucked it.

Maeve's ears turned red. She whimpered and buried her face in his neck.

Byron smiled. "What are you doing?" He felt she was like a cat.

Maeve didn't want to talk; she didn't want him to know she was shy. She closed her eyes to calm herself. I shouldn't be like this with him. What the hell am I doing? She slowly calmed down.

"Dad, Mom... Maeve, what are you doing?" A puzzled little voice came from behind the sofa.

Maeve and Byron turned and saw Will, resting his hands on the sofa back, blinking at them. Maeve was shocked, then subconsciously covered her knees with a pillow. "Will, when did you come out?"

"Just now." Will wouldn't tell her he'd seen everything; he knew she'd be shy. But even if he hadn't said it, Maeve felt terrible. I must be crazy to come over with Byron! she thought.

"You should go to bed. You have kindergarten tomorrow," Byron said, saving Maeve's embarrassment. Will was well enough to return to school.

Will sensed Byron was sending him away, but he obediently said, "Okay. Good night, Daddy. Good night, Maeve." He glanced at Maeve before leaving.

Maeve was excited to send the children to kindergarten tomorrow. Byron's gaze was thoughtful. "You like Will very much?"

Maeve thought, Of course I do! She said conservatively, "He's quite cute."

Byron raised an eyebrow and finished applying the ointment. He stood up. "I'm going to wash my hands. You stay here for a while." Maeve was about to nod when she realized something was wrong. I'm not a child. Why can't I stay by myself? she thought, pouting indignantly. Tidying her skirt, she noticed ointment on it and looked for a tissue box. She searched the drawer under the table and found a warm apricot-colored diamond-studded brocade box.

The gratuitous and repetitive promotional text has been removed. The writing has been significantly improved for grammar, punctuation, and flow. Some minor ambiguities remain, but they are inherent in the original text and could not be resolved without changing the intended narrative.