"Ow!" Maeve winced as her lower lip was bitten, the pain forcing her mouth open. She thought, "One mistake leads to another." Her heart skipped a beat. She wanted to push Byron away, but feared any sudden movement would reveal their hiding place. To make matters worse, he had been holding her tightly from the start, leaving her no room to escape.

Maeve was both embarrassed and frustrated, her grip on his sleeve tightening with each passing second. She considered biting him to snap him out of it, but always found herself at a disadvantage.

Byron, still holding her, shifted slightly and pressed her down onto the flowerbed. His lips barely parted from hers before returning with a deep, intense kiss, as if channeling all his pent-up frustration. His lips were cool, but every move felt like a wildfire, leaving Maeve completely at a loss. Her body, chilled by the night breeze, suddenly felt ablaze.

"Mr. McDaniel," Maeve finally managed to catch her breath. Pushing against his shoulder, her face flushed and teeth gritted, she said, "How long are you planning to keep kissing me?" She thought, "Why does this man always start kissing me out of nowhere?"

"Weren't you the one who started it?" Byron noticed the glisten at the corner of her lips, pressing his thumb against it and gently rubbing. "What's wrong with me kissing you back?"

Maeve slapped his hand away, stumbling over her words. "I-I didn't mean to..."

"Did you 'accidentally' kiss me too?" Byron smirked. "Too many lies ruin the fun. Why not just be honest?" Maeve's mind buzzed. She thought, "I am telling the truth, but why does his tone make it sound like I'm the one taking advantage of him? Clearly, he's the one being more outrageous!" "There's someone over there!"

The remaining group heard Maeve's voice and immediately closed in. "Let's go," Byron said, his brow furrowed slightly as he grabbed her hand and led her deeper into the alley. Back at the apartment, they finally lost their pursuers.

Maeve still felt uneasy and wanted to retreat to her room. But turning around, she noticed Byron's face had gone unusually pale, with beads of cold sweat at his temples. His old injury had clearly flared up.

"Mr. McDaniel, wait on the sofa for a moment," Maeve said hurriedly, rushing to grab the first-aid kit.

Thankfully, he had been recovering well, and the intense activity hadn't reopened his wound. Aside from some redness, it wasn't serious.

"I can't believe I forgot you're not supposed to do anything strenuous right now," Maeve said apologetically as she changed his bandage. "I'm sorry for making you carry me for so long."

Her mood grew somber, and she handled him with extra care.

Byron glanced at her. "What? Do I seem that fragile to you?"

Maeve lowered her gaze, staying silent.

Byron leaned in, lifting her chin, his gaze deep. "Even if we did something more strenuous than what just happened, I'd still be fine. Got it?"

"No, you shouldn't exert yourself right now. You need to let your wound heal completely," Maeve replied seriously. "Otherwise, all those medicinal soups I've been making for you will have gone to waste." Byron was speechless.

He leaned back, his voice low, almost to himself, "Talking to you is like talking to a brick wall."

Maeve hesitated, wanting to say something but holding back. She thought, "I'm only trying to help him, so why does he have to be so insulting?"

After finishing with the bandages, she closed the kit and hesitated before speaking. "Mr. McDaniel, the people chasing us were sent by my ex-boyfriend. I'm really sorry you got dragged into this." They hadn't succeeded last time, so this time they were determined to catch her.

As Byron buttoned his shirt, he replied calmly, "It wasn't your fault, so there's no need to apologize."

"But you got caught up in this because of me..."

"Instead of wasting time apologizing for your ex-boyfriend, how about making me some pasta?" Byron interrupted. "I haven't had dinner yet."

Maeve paused, her guilt easing. A small smile tugged at her lips. "I actually prepared a big meal this afternoon to thank you for letting me stay here, but when you didn't come back, I put half of it in the fridge. I can heat it up, and it'll be ready in no time."

With that, she got up and headed to the kitchen.

Only then did Byron notice the transformed living room. The hanging chair, the cabinet stuffed with snacks, the half-eaten bag of chips... Byron pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking, "This place is quickly becoming her domain."

When the packages she had ordered online were delivered, Maeve had to go back for them. Fortunately, it was daytime, and she avoided Jeff's people. She hauled the packages back, forming a small mountain in the corner.

After unpacking, Maeve took items to the bathroom, missing a package under the table. Her phone rang—a message from Bonnie.

Bonnie was attending a party tomorrow night where a designer would be present. She offered to introduce Maeve. This was a big opportunity for Maeve.

Maeve: [Thanks, Bonnie, but are you sure it won't be too much trouble for you?] Bonnie: [Not at all. It's just a matter of a few words. But whether he takes a special interest in you will depend on your own skills. But I believe in you.] Bonnie: [Remember that handmade dress you showed me? Wear that tomorrow night, and you're sure to make a great impression.]

Maeve felt grateful. After thanking Bonnie, Maeve went to her room to find the dress, planning to wash it.

Her previous job had relegated her to menial tasks, leaving her with little opportunity to work on actual designs. Frustrated, she would buy fabric in her spare time and design clothes for herself. This dress was a burst of inspiration, but she had never worn it—until now. Because of this, Maeve was in a great mood all day. She even made an especially lavish dinner that evening. Byron came back earlier than the day before, almost at the same time as the drinks delivery.

Maeve had felt uneasy around him last night, but today, her high spirits made her forget the kiss. Eager to organize her old design sketches, she retreated to her room after dinner.

Byron watched her go, raising an eyebrow. He thought, "She's this happy just because I had dinner with her? She couldn't stop smiling at me across the table. Annoying."

For once, Byron didn't return to his study. Instead, he sat on the sofa, handling emails on his tablet. He noticed a package near the table—addressed to Maeve, from Jeff.

The text formatting issues, particularly the repeated "Search the FindNovel.net..." line and the random character strings, have been removed. The narrative is now more coherent and grammatically correct.