Jeff thought, "Ten times the purchase price... Not even Father can come up with that kind of money!" He quickly realized Ray was deliberately making things difficult for him. His face went pale as he recalled Ray's earlier words. "When have I ever offended Ray? I can't remember anything at all!"

He grabbed his winnings, left the lounge, and headed to the meeting room. He pushed open the door and entered. Byron, sitting on the black sofa, turned slightly, holding a glass of red wine. The corner of his eye lifted in a casual gaze. "All taken care of?"

"A piece of cake," Ray replied with a grin, placing a phone on the table before pouring another glass of wine. "That fool actually had a bit of luck tonight. If he'd quit while he was ahead, he could've walked away with a nice profit. But he got greedy." He paused. "But something felt off. Sure, the transfer deed for all my restaurants in the George Group is tempting, but it's not worth risking company shares over. Did you have a hand in this?"

Ray thought, The gambling session tonight, orchestrated by Byron, didn't feel like a coincidence.

"Just gave him a little nudge," Byron replied calmly.

Ray raised an eyebrow, sensing more to the story. "What did Jeff do to get on your bad side? Care to share?"

"Don't be too curious," Byron said.

Ray rubbed his chin, trying to decipher Byron's words. Then he asked, "You didn't go after Jeff because of a woman, did you?"

He thought, After all, with the Graves family's minor status, it doesn't seem like something that would otherwise catch Byron's attention.

Byron paused, then coolly dismissed the idea. "You're overthinking it."

"Really? I don't buy it," Ray said, his curiosity piqued, his expression eager.

Byron ignored him, set down his wine glass, and picked up the phone. Jeff's double-password lock was practically useless against Byron. He found the secretly recorded surveillance footage of Maeve, and with an indifferent expression, deleted all the videos. He then dropped the phone into the fish tank.

"What was on it?" Ray asked, crossing his arms. "You didn't have me win his phone just to toss it in the tank, did you?"

"Nothing important," Byron said dismissively. He walked to the window. "It's lively down there."

Ray raised an eyebrow. "And what's that got to do with anything?"

"You should go down and join the fun."

Ray was left speechless, thinking, So this is how it feels to be used and discarded!

Meanwhile, in the garden, Maeve was about to leave. The place was beautiful, elegant, and luxurious, but also superficial, making her feel out of place. She wondered if Bonnie was finished and considered going home.

Lost in thought, she was about to rise from the bench when her skirt caught on some flower bushes. She tried to free it, but then heard a voice. "Who's there?" she called out.

She froze. Across from her, a man in a silver-gray tailcoat slowly stood, holding her skirt.

Maeve pointed at his hand. "Excuse me, sir, could you please let go of my dress?"

Alex glanced at her dress, admiration flashing in his eyes. It was pure white, with a classic bodice and gracefully draped skirt. Delicate roses adorned the neckline, cuffs, and hem. It was a subtle yet striking design—the first time Alex had seen anything like it. He couldn't help but look longer.

"Sir?" Maeve asked, noticing his distraction. "Are you alright?"

Alex quickly snapped out of it and released her dress. "Sorry, I thought it was just a piece of fabric. The rose crewelwork is so beautiful that I couldn't help but pick it up." He hadn't realized it was part of her dress.

Alex cleared his throat. When he got a good look at Maeve, he was surprised. "It's you?"

Maeve looked up, puzzled. "You know me?"

"Last time at Cloud Club, you ran into me while crying. I offered you a handkerchief, but you didn't take it and ran off," Alex said with a warm smile. "You probably don't remember." He remembered her tear-filled, determined eyes clearly.

Maeve recalled. "Oh, that was you! I remember now. Thank you." She had been upset and hurried off without acknowledging his kindness.

"It was nothing." Alex shook his head. "Forgive me for asking, but where did you get this dress?"

Maeve shook her head. "I made it myself."

Alex's eyes lit up. "You made it yourself? And the rose crewelwork..."

"I did that too," Maeve replied. She had once worked part-time for a crewelwork master, an elderly woman whose son had left home over a decade ago. With no one to carry on her craft, the woman had taught Maeve.

Alex's excitement grew. "So, you're a designer?"

"I used to be," Maeve said modestly. "But I haven't found a job yet."

"A designer with such a natural blend of styles and impressive crewelwork skills struggling to find work?" Alex thought she was joking, then asked seriously, "Would you be interested in working at my company?"

Maeve was surprised. "Your company? Eternal Hope? Of course! What designer hasn't heard of Eternal Hope? Are you the founder?"

"Actually, the founder is my mother," Alex said with a smile. "But it's good you know the company. Come to this address next Monday and bring your resume and portfolio." He handed her a business card.

Maeve took the card, excited. "Thank you. I'll definitely be there."

"I'm looking forward to seeing your work," Alex said with a gentle smile.

Byron, standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, observed this scene. He saw Maeve chatting happily with a stranger and accepting a business card. Her bright smile was almost blinding, even from a distance.

He thought, She always acts like she can't live without me, yet here she is, smiling like that with another man.

Byron's dark eyes narrowed, and the temperature seemed to drop. He picked up the phone and left the room.