"Was marrying me a mistake?" Maeve thought, a sharp pain tightening in her chest. Byron's words cut deeply, leaving a bitter sting and sparking a surge of anger. She couldn't contain herself. "What right do you have to say that? Do you even know me?"

Dealing with the online nightmare was bad enough; now, confronted with Byron's doubts, a deep sense of injustice washed over her. Byron was about to respond when a series of violent bangs reverberated through the apartment, followed by Jeff's furious voice.

"Maeve! You bitch! I waited at city hall for half an hour, and here you are screwing around with another guy! If I hadn't checked the security footage, I wouldn't have known you dragged some random guy into your place! I know you're in there! Open the damn door!" Jeff's voice was a frenzied roar, his rage palpable, each pound punctuating his fury. Byron frowned and looked at Maeve. She was on the verge of tears, her eyes red and swollen. A flicker of realization crossed his face. So, she didn't notice the camera? Maybe I got this all wrong… he thought.

Maeve didn't notice Byron's stare; she was too focused on the door trembling under Jeff's assault. Her face had gone pale. Outside, Jeff screamed, his voice a terrifying blend of rage and bitterness. "You whore! No wonder you've been playing coy, acting all high and mighty while sneaking around with some random guy! Think you can just not open the door? Fine!"

A loud crash reverberated as something heavy slammed against the door, shaking the walls. Several more brutal hits followed, then, with a final shattering impact, the door splintered and crashed inward.

Maeve jumped back, bumping into Byron. Remembering their argument, she pulled away, but his hand caught her, pulling her behind him. His voice was calm but steely. "Stay back."

Maeve froze, her heart racing. By the time she recovered, Jeff had barged in, clutching a metal rod. His face twisted with fury, his eyes burning with venom as he spat on the floor. "You filthy cheaters! Did you really think a locked door would keep me out?"

Maeve's expression hardened. "Jeff, you're the one who cheated first. I already told you it's over. Who I'm with is none of your fucking business—"

"Shut the fuck up!" Jeff bellowed. "I'll deal with this asshole first, then I'll take care of you, you slut!"

He swung the metal rod at Byron's head—a potentially lethal blow. Maeve's face turned white. She shouted, "Mr. McDaniel, watch out!"

Just as the rod came down, a powerful hand stopped it. Byron stood unfazed, his eyes cold and filled with contempt. He gripped the rod as if it weighed nothing, twisted his body, yanked Jeff's arm backward with a brutal snap. The sickening crunch of bone filled the room, followed by Jeff's scream.

Byron wasn't done. His leg shot out, delivering a vicious kick to Jeff's chest. The sharp crack of ribs echoed. Jeff collapsed unconscious.

Byron's movements reopened his wounds. He grimaced, his face paling.

Maeve rushed to him, ignoring Jeff. "Did you tear your wound open? Do we need to go to the hospital?"

"I'm fine," Byron grunted, his eyes momentarily flicking to Maeve's cleavage before returning to Jeff. "What are we supposed to do with this piece of trash?" His voice was cold and dismissive.

Maeve smiled, but it faded as she looked at the broken door and wreckage. She shuddered at the thought of Jeff watching her every day.

Thank God I married him, she thought, biting her lip.

Maeve blinked. She noticed Byron on the phone, calm and collected. "Yeah, get it done and bring it over. Fast."

Soon, bodyguards arrived. They took photos, collected evidence (including the hidden camera and metal rod), and took Jeff to the police station.

Ten minutes later, a team of workers arrived to install a new door. They worked efficiently, and soon the door was securely in place.

Maeve wanted to offer them drinks, but they were already gone. She looked at the new door and smiled. "This door looks pretty solid. It shouldn't break so easily next time, right?"

Byron, checking the lock, raised an eyebrow. "Didn't they tell you? This door is made from the same material they use for safes. It'd take a bomb to get through it." Maeve's jaw dropped. "Isn't that a bit much for a little apartment like mine?"

My tiny, cheap apartment getting the same treatment as a bank vault? That's just nuts, she thought.

Byron chuckled, then his face went pale, sweat beading on his forehead.

The final promotional sentence was removed as it is not part of the narrative.