Chapter 388

Another point was that Maeve had been hiding Theo's identity. Clearly, she didn't want Byron to know. If Theo wasn't Jaylen's son, why would she hide it? Remembering Jaylen's casual joke from the Arts and Theatrical festival, Maeve's head buzzed. No wonder Byron's expression was strange after that phone call. Maeve thought, "Those words were easily misunderstood."

Just as Maeve considered how to explain, Byron said emotionlessly, "I'm not interested in your past. I won't ask. Theo is your child, therefore mine. From now on, I'll treat him as my own. Whatever Will has, he will have too." The last sentence carried significant weight, especially from Byron. Maeve was speechless. "He's your son, but you'll treat him as your own? What's this about?"

Maeve took a deep breath. "So, when did you realize Theo was my child?"

"The day Theo had a fever," Byron explained. "I heard him call you 'Mommy,' so I asked the doctor for a paternity test using your hair follicles." Maeve remembered. He'd nearly skipped sleeping at the apartment, lying about working late, actually at a bar! She'd accidentally revealed her hidden child while drunk. He'd left with a cold face, accusing her of a guilty conscience and needing to calm down. Later, she tried to tell him, calling and messaging, but couldn't reach him. His neglect stemmed from believing Theo was hers and Jaylen's. Maeve's memory was sharp; the helplessness and grievance remained. He only needed to answer her call to clear the misunderstanding. She was angry.

"You're quite tolerant," Maeve said sarcastically. "If nothing had happened to Jaylen, would you have pretended not to know?"

Byron hummed. "I don't have a hobby of rushing into fatherhood."

Maeve's forehead twitched. "I'll take care of Theo. I don't need you to treat him as your biological son. You'd better not treat him as your child for the rest of your life!"

Chapter 388

The car had been parked downstairs for a long time, but the driver, noticing the tense atmosphere, didn't remind them. After that, Maeve opened the door and left without looking back. Byron frowned, unsure of her anger. Did she think he was unqualified to be Theo's father? Jaylen, who didn't even want to care for the child, was qualified? Byron's face darkened. Only when the driver reminded him did he order, "Go to the company."

At Dreamscape Studio, Maeve ran into Daryl, who was saying goodbye.

"You're leaving?"

Daryl nodded, visibly thinner after days of turmoil. His smile was less innocent, more tenacious. "Ms. Reese, orphaned since childhood, I've scraped by on the black market. Mr. Chatterly kindly took me in, giving me income and dignity. I have nothing to repay him, but I want to travel like he did, healing and helping. Before I leave, goodbye. And if you need help, I'll do my best."

A sour feeling arose in Maeve's heart. Jaylen's connections seemed to have vanished overnight—the Chatterly family, Daryl, Rudolf in seclusion... She didn't know when they'd meet again.

"I wish you a safe journey," Maeve sighed.

"Mr. Chatterly asked me to give this to you," Daryl said, handing her a sandalwood box. "A letter inside." Maeve accepted the heavy box and thanked him. Daryl hesitated, then waved and ran off. Maeve knew what he'd wanted to ask—if she'd ever liked Jaylen—but it was pointless.

Maeve took the box to her office, noticing several packages. Ignoring them, she opened Jaylen's box.

Chapter 388

The letter was short. It described a collection of plant seeds from around the world, unknown to him. Knowing she liked gardening, he wanted her to plant them on his birthday each year, as if he were still here, his life continuing through them.

"I will," Maeve promised softly. This was the last thing she could do for him.

After putting away the box, Maeve turned to the packages. Before she could open them, someone knocked.

"Ms. Reese!" Paige was nervous. "That man loitering by the workshop is back!" Maeve stood up. "I'll go see. You get back to work."

"Don't you need me?"

"No. It's an office building. He won't dare anything." Maeve grabbed her phone and went out.

The man didn't run. He looked her up and down. His gaze made her uncomfortable.

"I heard you've been loitering. What's the matter? Do you know me?" Maeve pretended not to know about the delivery.

He was wearing a cap, hands in his sleeves, unshaven and weathered, but not ugly.

"Sure you want me to say this here, big designer?" His tone was ambiguous.

Maeve frowned. "If you don't want to talk, leave. You're disrupting our work."

The man clapped. "Good. You're unyielding. As expected of my daughter."

Even prepared, Maeve was shocked. She calmed down. "If you insist I'm your daughter, show me proof. Do you have it?"