Chapter 386

Hearing her cry out for another man, Byron felt even more depressed. He pulled her closer, exhaled deeply, and whispered, "To him, dying in front of you is not a bad thing."

Maeve sobbed intermittently, offering no reply. Eventually, exhaustion claimed her, and she fell asleep in his arms.

Byron tapped the invisible button on his sunglasses. The sensor, connected to his brain nerves, fed images from the sunglasses' camera to his mind. The picture wasn't clear, more like a rough roadmap. The sensor detected anyone passing by. Though he couldn't see clearly, he could walk normally and avoid obstacles.

This was the latest product from the Greenhaven Science and Technology Headquarters under the McDaniel Group, delivered that noon. Without needing directions, Byron carefully lifted the sleeping Maeve and smoothly entered the elevator, taking her back to his private villa.

At midnight, Byron sat before the bedroom's floor-to-ceiling window, making a hushed phone call. Maeve slept soundly on the bed, clearly exhausted.

"Mr. McDaniel, in that restaurant, blue-ringed octopus poison was accidentally mixed into the dishes of only two tables. The other guests' poisoning was due to an employee with a grudge against the boss. He wanted to ruin the restaurant by poisoning the food. After being caught, he confessed immediately, even boasting he would have killed more if he'd had enough poison. He only had one life to lose," the subordinate reported, a frown creasing his brow.

"Where did he get the poison?" Byron asked coldly.

"We haven't traced the purchase, but that neurotoxin is strictly prohibited. Only the black market would sell it."

"Follow that lead," Byron said coldly. "Report any progress."

"Yes, sir."

A slight movement on the bed caught Byron's attention. He hung up, rose, and went to Maeve.

A nightmare had awakened her. Curled up, she stared into the darkness, her eyes dry and painful from crying. She shifted uncomfortably against the pillow. "You're awake?" Byron sat on the bed's edge, touching her cheek, finding it damp.

Byron frowned. Was she that heartbroken over Jaylen's death? She rarely cried. How many times had she cried for Jaylen?

In fact, Maeve's tears were mostly from the pain and discomfort. Byron, his face hidden by sunglasses, remained inscrutable. His lips were tightly pursed, betraying his ill mood.

Maeve suddenly turned, resting her head on his lap, hugging his waist. This soothed her nightmare-induced terror.

Byron's cold expression softened slightly. He thought, Let her cry. Jaylen is gone.

"Byron, what were you talking about?" Maeve asked after a long silence.

Byron didn't hide the investigation's results. The target remained unknown.

Maeve hugged him tightly, murmuring, "Sorry to trouble you."

Byron turned her face. "Still talking about trouble?"

"Then I won't," Maeve said, her lips pursed. After a pause, she added, "I think you were right about what you said in the hospital."

"Yes?"

"Compared to a life of restraint, he wanted an elegant death. We couldn't bear to let him go, always wanting him to live."

"So you can't bear to part with other men?"

Maeve choked at his bluntness.

Byron said coldly, "Maeve, do I seem tolerant? You're saying that in front of me?"

She grabbed his collar, looking up. "It's not like that. I always considered Jaylen family."

"Engaged family?"

"Didn't you have a fiancée?" Maeve countered.

Byron was speechless.

"Oh, and even if you can't see her, you keep her sketches in your room," she added.

Byron fell silent, pressing his brows. He regretted using the painting to push her away. Now, he was paying the price.

Maeve snorted, attempting to leave his lap.

Byron grabbed her waist, pulling her close. She couldn't escape.

"What are you doing?" Maeve glared.

"Nothing," Byron rested his chin on her head. His deep voice trembled slightly. "You've cried enough for Jaylen today. Only today. No more."

Maeve pursed her lips. "Do you care if I cry in the future?"

"Yes. I can't bear to see you cry. What right does he have?"

Maeve was stunned. Looking at Byron's serious face, the weight on her heart lessened.

Three days later…

Jaylen's funeral was a low-key affair, attended only by relatives. Even knowing his time was short, Jaylen chose an anonymous place to die—perhaps the best choice. Dark clouds hung over the Chatterly family estate.

Unexpectedly, Mrs. Chatterly, saddened by Maeve's presence, waited for them to leave before bringing Will and Theo. Byron waited in the car.

Before Jaylen's tombstone sat a photo of him in traditional clothing, his expression serious, appearing youthful.

"Jaylen, we're here," Maeve said, placing down her bouquet. Her eyes reddened. "Good news. All the food poisoning victims survived thanks to your timely treatment. They're grateful, even made you a banner."

Maeve suppressed her emotions. "The news tried to cover it, but your family hushed it up, knowing you'd dislike the attention. I donated your inheritance to charity, as you wished. You saved so many lives, you deserve repayment in your next life, or I wouldn't be able to bear it."

"I hope you're fine in your next life, healthy, free to go anywhere...and find someone who loves you, and whom you love," Maeve said, her smile dissolving into tears.

A breeze blew. Jaylen in the photo seemed to smile. When Maeve looked again, it was unchanged.