Chapter 464

Zephyr shrugged. "My dad has been avoiding marriage for years. Why would he care if I get married?"

The assistant looked puzzled. "I understand your dad's been hurt by love, but you? Why don't you want to get married?"

Zephyr hadn't been hurt by love, but he still had his reasons. "I'm just not into the idea of wasting my time and giving away half of everything I've worked for."

The assistant blinked, processing. He wondered if Zephyr's view on marriage stemmed from his father's past experiences, which had been quite rough. He thought, "That poor girl."

Meanwhile, Maeve, unaware of the pity directed her way, texted Byron to cancel his pickup; she had plans with Karina to watch a show and would be home late.

Walking down the street, she didn't notice the silver-white Bugatti drive past. The car's breeze briefly ruffled her hair.

The man inside, casually looking out the window, glimpsed her. His expression froze. "Stop the car," he barked.

The driver braked, confused. "Sir, why—"

Before he finished, the man was out of the car, searching. But Maeve was gone, vanished without a trace.

He frowned, returning to the car, frustrated. His handsome face was a mix of annoyance and determination. He leaned back, one leg over the other, hands in his pockets.

Dressed in a simple yet classy silver suit, he didn't look like he was going to a fancy party, but more like a mafia boss preparing for something serious.

His driver asked, "Boss, do you need help finding her?"

He sighed, rubbing his nose. "No. It's fine." He'd look for her later. Besides, she might not have even been her.

"Of course it's necessary! She'll do anything to evade you. I'll track her down, and send her to you!" his subordinate said eagerly. The man kicked the seat, his eyes narrowing. "What nonsense? How dare you touch my people?"

The subordinate quickly corrected himself. "Right, the future Madam. I wouldn't dare."

The man scoffed, pulled his legs back, and checked his phone. The message he awaited hadn't arrived, but he ignored the others. "Get me a new phone. This one's messed up," he said, frustrated.

His subordinate nervously wiped his forehead. "Boss, you've switched phones eight times this month. They're all top-tier models. How are they messed up?"

The man frowned at the blank screen. "If it wasn't broken, why am I not getting a message from her? Stop talking and just get me a new one."

The subordinate hesitated. 'Did he ever think maybe she just hasn't sent it yet?' He couldn't believe someone would ignore their boss's texts. Seeing the man's anger, he stayed silent.

The man stared at his phone, muttering, "Since I've got nothing else to do, I might as well take care of those old guys tonight. They're wasting my time." The subordinate thought, 'Stop, those are your seniors!'

Later that night, at Suvin Group's summer fashion show, Maeve admitted Suvin Group knew how to put on a show. Every detail was perfect.

She had her eye on two gowns and planned to buy them, even if she didn't wear them.

After the show, she went backstage for a fitting and waited for the dresses to be delivered.

"The person who bought the Rose and Miracle gowns is here?" a sharp voice called from the doorway.

The clack of high heels followed, each step radiating irritation. Someone was clearly causing a scene.

A staff member tried to intercept her, but she brushed past. She stopped in front of Maeve, who was putting on her jacket.

"I want those two gowns," the woman said, chin raised. "I'll pay you double."

Maeve didn't blink. She casually loosened her hair. "Not interested. I like them too much to sell."

The woman's face tightened. "Do you know who I am?"

Maeve gave her a once-over, then shrugged. "Nope."

"I'm Prince Seth's girlfriend," the woman declared. She tilted her head, radiating smugness. "If you're smart, you won't make this hard." The staff looked uneasy. They couldn't afford to offend either Maeve (connected to Piers) or the prince's girlfriend.

Maeve remained unfazed. A prince and his girlfriend were nothing compared to a temperamental princess.

"Guess I'm just not that smart," Maeve said, smiling faintly, reaching for her handbag. "You'll have to deal with disappointment."

She turned to leave, but the woman, enraged, shouted, "Who do you think you are? Do you honestly think wearing Suvin's gowns will make you less pathetic? You're nothing but a joke."

Maeve stopped, turned, and gave her a cool look. "Some people can wear all the designer clothes they want, but they'll never cover up the stink of their rotten personality. Why would I be scared of that?"

Maeve left her sputtering with rage.

The stomping of high heels followed as the woman pulled out her phone.

Maeve grinned as she left the building. Handling arrogant people was more entertaining than frustrating.

Henry's presence had left a mark on her life, shaping her behavior.

She used to walk on eggshells, terrified of being labeled her father's daughter—a criminal in the making. It didn't matter what she did; she was guilty by association.

For a long time, she let it affect her, burying her feelings. Not anymore. She wasn't afraid of their opinions.

Driving back, something about Henry crossed her mind. She asked Byron what happened to him.

At a red light, Byron turned to her, a cold smile flickering. "He is dead."

Her eyes widened. "Dead? How? I thought he was locked up in Blacktomb Prison. What happened?"