After leaving the Graves family, Maeve felt a wave of relief. The thought of no longer fearing Jeff's retaliation filled her with excitement. She skipped with joy, like a carefree rabbit.

She thought Nestor had left unnoticed, but he was still there, witnessing her lighthearted hop. Nestor smiled, thinking, "It's a good thing she and Jeff didn't end up together; it would have been such a waste."

Maeve went to the supermarket, bought ingredients, and returned to her apartment to make soup. She packed it in a thermos and headed to the hospital. The hospital meals were bland and tasteless; Byron barely ate a few bites before putting down his utensils. With lunchtime approaching, Maeve hoped her homemade soup would improve his appetite.

Just as she reached the hospital entrance, someone stopped her.

"Reese, correct? My lady requests your presence," a black-suited bodyguard said, his expression neutral.

"And who is your lady?" Maeve asked, puzzled.

"You'll find out when you get there. She's waiting in the nearby café."

Maeve hesitated, but the café was close, so she decided to see what it was about.

At the café, the bodyguard led Maeve to a booth. "She's here," he announced.

"Good," a woman in an elegant champagne-colored velvet dress and snow-white shawl said, looking up. "Sit down." Maeve thought the woman looked familiar. She sat and asked, "May I ask why you wanted to see me? I don't believe we've met."

"You're the new maid my son hired, so it's no surprise," Alexis said, appraising Maeve. "I wanted to discuss a few things." Maeve thought, So, this is Mr. McDaniel's mother? The woman's stylish appearance suggested a well-off background. She recalled Byron's comments about his strained relationship with his parents and their years of limited contact. She wondered, Why is his mother seeking me out?

"What would you like to discuss?" Maeve asked.

"First, your attire. I expect you to dress appropriately for a maid. Avoid wearing clothes that are too revealing or suggestive," Alexis said, sipping her coffee. Maeve glanced down at her modest, pale pink sweater dress and beige coat—perfectly normal attire.

She frowned. "Mrs. McDaniel, I have the right to choose what I wear. Even Byron has never told me I couldn't dress like this."

Alexis smirked inwardly. Just as Karen described, this girl has no sense of her place. She even dares to talk back to her employer's mother.

"My son isn't attuned to such subtleties, so of course, he wouldn't say anything," Alexis replied dismissively. "But it doesn't matter; you're just a maid, and I don't have the energy to worry about such details." Maeve's hands tightened.

Alexis continued, "I need you to do something for me. From now on, I want you to regularly report on Byron's activities. I'll give you my contact information shortly."

Maeve looked up. "Mrs. McDaniel, I don't recall agreeing to this."

Alexis's expression turned disdainful. She produced an envelope and pushed it across the table. "Would this help?"

Maeve opened the envelope and saw a bank card. She smiled. "Are you trying to buy me off, Mrs. McDaniel?"

"Consider it a partial payment," Alexis said, adjusting her shawl. "If you do well, the rewards will far exceed your salary."

Maeve wasn't interested and pushed the envelope back. "Mrs. McDaniel, what exactly is your reason? Are you asking me to spy on your son?"

"I want to know how my son is doing," Alexis said. "Then why don't you ask him yourself?" Maeve asked calmly. "I'm guessing you've never actually tried to understand your son. Otherwise, you wouldn't so casually offer money to watch him. Have you thought about how he'd feel if he found out?" Alexis paused, her expression turning cold. "Are you lecturing me? Do you not know your place?"

Maeve stood up. "I'm sorry, but I'm just a maid—I'm not cut out for spying. I suggest you find someone else."

She left without looking back. Alexis thought, Just a maid, and yet she has the nerve to speak to me like that? Who gave her the confidence—was it Byron?

As Maeve left, she understood why Byron avoided home and his parents. If his parents really want to know what's going on, they have plenty of opportunities. Why resort to hiring someone to spy on him? Don't they even have time for a simple phone call? More importantly, they were right outside the hospital—how hard would it be to walk in and see their son for themselves?

Maeve felt frustrated. After calming down, she picked up the thermos and went upstairs.

In the hospital room, Byron was in a video conference, listening to a project proposal. His frown hadn't eased. The planning director noticed and knew he was in trouble.

Just as Byron was about to speak, he saw Maeve. Lowering his voice, he said, "Send the proposal back and start over. Meeting adjourned." The video conference ended abruptly. The planning director collapsed into his chair.

"Mr. McDaniel, it's almost lunchtime. I brought some soup," Maeve said, setting out the hospital lunch and the soup.

Byron put away his laptop, wiped his hands, and picked up the soup. The rich broth was perfect.

After finishing a bowl, Byron watched Maeve pour more, smiling slightly. "What made you think of bringing soup?" The daily soup had stopped since his injury healed, and he realized he'd missed it.

Maeve pushed the bowl toward him. "You need to rebuild your strength. You'll recover faster if you eat well."

Byron's smile faded. "Weak? Did I go too easy on you last night?"

Maeve's hand froze. The memories she'd been trying to forget returned. Heat crept up her face. "That's not what I meant. Don't twist my words," she mumbled, taking a sip of soup. "I'm just trying to do something nice, and you're giving me a hard time."

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