Chapter 522

Maeve bought a ticket and entered. Unsure of Byron's location, she explored the building. Ignoring a "No Entry" sign, she climbed the stairs. Muffled voices drifted from the hallway.

"Mr. McDaniel, we've met before! High school, Kleymond University… you fainted from low blood sugar!"

Maeve slowed. The voice was familiar.

"I even snuck out to wait for you, but I chickened out! You were behind me!" Molly's voice was shy. "You might not remember, but I do. You helped me when I was at my lowest."

Byron frowned, studying Molly's face. "When are you paying me back that money?"

Maeve froze. Across the room, Byron and Molly stood before a panoramic window, bathed in sunlight, a picture of perfect harmony. A pang of jealousy struck her, silencing her steps.

Molly, startled, realized Byron was testing her. "It was forty dollars; fifty with the ticket. I'll pay you back…" She doubted he'd actually want it.

Byron, hand in pocket, said coldly, "Transfer it."

Molly stammered, "Mr. McDaniel… do you still… remember your promise?"

"What promise?" Byron asked casually.

Molly blushed. "If I got into Kleymond, you'd…"

Byron cut her off. "Why are you here?" His gaze shifted to Maeve.

Maeve, having overheard snippets of their conversation, initially planned to leave. But as she moved, Byron's eyes locked onto her.

"I heard the view's nice," Maeve mumbled, approaching. "Can't I look?" He smells of alcohol, she noted.

Byron's lips twitched. He stared intently.

Molly looked surprised. "Ms. Reese, it's a misunderstanding! Mr. McDaniel and I were discussing work!"

Maeve thought, I didn't ask.

"This isn't a public space," Byron said flatly. "Leave."

Maeve defied him. "I'm not leaving. What will you do?"

"Call security."

Molly smiled triumphantly.

"I'm here for you," Maeve declared. "About this morning."

Byron remained impassive. "Nothing to discuss. I already told you."

"Is that really what you think?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

Tears welled in Maeve's eyes.

"Molly, give me the keycard," Byron said, ignoring Maeve.

Molly readily complied, adding, "Mr. Roche's room is on the fifth floor. Contact me if you need anything."

Maeve clenched her fists, then paused, remembering the room number. Should I leave, or trust my instincts?

Chapter 523

In his fifth-floor room, Byron slowly removed his coat, his eyes blurry. He gulped down hangover soup and collapsed onto the bed. Lilies perfumed the air. The room grew suddenly hot. Byron frowned, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead. He loosened his collar, his breathing labored. The door creaked open; a small figure slipped inside.

Byron's sharp eyes found her in the darkness. Heat surged through him, extinguishing reason. A gasp escaped her as he pulled her onto the bed.

The sounds of passion drowned all else. Her consciousness blurred, lost in the intensity.

Later, Maeve’s body ached. Her legs trembled, the discomfort unbearable. He must have been drugged, she thought. He'd never been this brutal. She'd come to talk, not for this! And after they'd just argued!

She cursed him silently, trying to move, her waist protesting. She fell back, her head hitting his chin. He stirred, pulling her close. She leaned in, hearing him murmur… "Molly."

Maeve’s breath hitched. He thinks I’m Molly? Shame and humiliation washed over her.

She flung off his arm, ignoring the pain, and dressed, her skin covered in red marks. She staggered out. The door opened again shortly after.