After the nurse left, Maeve slowly pulled down the blanket, her eyes darting nervously. "Sorry," she asked Byron, "did I accidentally touch your wound?" Byron flexed his slightly uncomfortable right hand and calmly replied, "No."

In truth, she hadn't touched his wound, but the softest part of her had brushed against his chest, and that spot was still warm. He picked up the remote and said casually, "If you're scared, we can stop watching."

Maeve felt her ears burn. I wasn't scared, just startled by the knocking! she thought. Who wouldn't be freaked out when the movie and reality seem to blur for a moment? But, of course, he remained completely unshaken. Byron merely hummed in response, letting her be.

The movie continued; the two remaining characters in the lodge didn't open the door. The knocking soon stopped. Just as Maeve braced herself for another death or disappearance, the two characters suddenly started rolling around on the carpet. The sounds of their heavy breathing and moaning filled the room, amplified by the high-quality sound system, making the atmosphere uncomfortably warm. Maeve's eyes widened, and her mind went blank for a moment. The next second, the screen went dark.

Byron's expression, which had turned stormy, was furrowed. His voice, low and filled with icy anger, was barely audible. What kind of trash has Ray put on that USB drive? he thought. Maeve didn't catch what he said. Trying to ease the awkwardness, she forced a laugh. "The director of this movie sure is... creative—combining, um... romance, suspense, horror, and comedy elements. It's really... unique."

Unique, my foot. What a mess! she thought. If you're going to make a horror film, make a proper horror film—resorting to cheap, attention-grabbing scenes like that is just plain awful!

"You seem nervous," Byron observed, his gaze fixed on Maeve. He noticed her deeply reddened ear tips. His throat suddenly felt dry.

"Nervous? Me?" Maeve stammered. "You're overthinking it. I might get nervous watching something like this with someone else, but with you? No way." Byron narrowed his eyes. "Oh? You're not nervous with me?"

Maeve nodded quickly. "We're married, after all. We're so familiar with each other; there's nothing to be nervous about."

She didn't notice the growing intensity in his gaze. Hugging her pillow, she was about to return to her own bed, but before she could move, Byron's hand suddenly gripped her shoulder. The next moment, he pushed her down onto the bed. Maeve's eyes filled with panic. "Mr. McDaniel—"

Before she could finish, Byron cupped her chin and kissed her, swallowing the rest of her words in a forceful, dominating kiss.

Maeve's eyes widened in shock and confusion. She instinctively wanted to resist but was afraid of hurting his wound. Her hesitation left her defenseless, allowing him to deepen the kiss and completely overpower her. She never would have imagined that, even with only one hand, Byron could pin her down so effectively.

In this position, with him on top and their bodies pressed close, she felt the heat radiating from his body, making the air thick and heavy. After what felt like an eternity, Byron finally released her, though he didn't move away. He rested his forehead against hers, breathing heavily. His dark eyes reflected her face with crystal clarity. Her cheeks flushed; her eyes were hazy, almost misty, and she found herself unable to meet his gaze. Her heart pounded.

Byron looked at her flushed, slightly swollen lips, and a flicker of satisfaction passed through his eyes. Once their breathing steadied, Maeve couldn't hold back. "Mr. McDaniel, why did you kiss me?" she asked. Her kissing was something intimate, meant for lovers or couples with a real connection. Even though they were technically married, there was no real bond between them. So what does this kiss mean? she thought.

Hearing her question, the darkness in Byron's eyes lightened. He swallowed, then responded casually, "Aren't we supposed to be familiar with each other? Is a goodnight kiss really that strange?"

Maeve was caught off guard. "It's not that, but our relationship isn't... that kind of relationship."

"If we're married in name, and you're not nervous around me, then what's the problem?" Byron's expression remained calm. "Are you sure you want to keep having this conversation in this position? I can't guarantee what might happen next."

Maeve froze, suddenly understanding the implications. She hadn't been intimate with other men, but she understood what he was suggesting. Her face turned bright red, and she was too flustered to move. "Y-you need to get off me! Help me!" She was left speechless.

Suppressing her embarrassment, Maeve sat up and helped Byron lie back down, then quickly scrambled back to her own bed, as if fleeing.

Byron noticed the hump under the blanket on her bed and said lazily, "It's just a normal physiological reaction. What's there to be embarrassed about?"

"You've got thick skin, so of course you're not embarrassed," Maeve's frustrated voice came from under the blanket. "You're so injured, and you can still react like that? Serves you right for being stuck in bed." Byron chuckled softly. "My hands and feet are injured, not anything else."

"So you think that gives you the right to act like a jerk whenever you want?"

Maeve threw off the blanket, frowning at Byron. "Mr. McDaniel, our relationship isn't at the point where kissing is appropriate. For both our sakes, I hope you'll be more mindful in the future..." Byron interrupted, turning his gaze to meet hers. "You might be forgetting something. I'm a normal man."

She was left speechless. What? she thought. Maeve couldn't quite grasp what he meant, but Byron had already lost interest in continuing the conversation and closed his eyes to rest. Feeling frustrated, Maeve curled back up under the blanket, her mind too jumbled to sleep.

Of course, she knew he was a normal man—she'd just experienced that firsthand. But what does that have to do with that reminder? Could he be implying that he kissed me simply because of normal male urges and that he won't hold back in the future? she thought. Maeve bit her lip, turned over, and closed her eyes.

The next morning, both tacitly avoided mentioning the previous night's events. After having breakfast with Byron, Maeve left the hospital and took a cab to a specific destination.

At the Graves family's luxurious villa, a not-so-harmonious family scene was unfolding.

"You worthless brat! How much trouble are you going to cause before you're satisfied?" Wallace, his face livid with rage, swung a wooden cane at Jeff. Jeff tried to shield his head and dodge, but he still got hit several times, crying out in pain. "Ow, damn it! That hurts—stop hitting me, old man!" Wallace kicked him to the ground. "I used to think you were just immature, that a bit of recklessness was inevitable. But I didn't expect you to grow up with more guts and less brains!"

The final sentence is incomplete; it needs more context to be finished appropriately. Also, the repeated "Search the FindNovel.net..." is extraneous and should be removed.