Maeve was stunned. "Mr. McDaniel?" she exclaimed, incredulous.

Byron stopped abruptly, shooting Archer a look. Archer understood and stopped the higher-ups from leaving the elevator. "Guys," he said, "I just remembered something important. Let's go back upstairs and discuss it." The higher-ups exchanged glances, and the elevator doors closed slowly.

"Mr. McDaniel, why are you here?" Maeve asked, her eyes wide with surprise. "And that's our company's exclusive elevator!"

Byron frowned inwardly. He didn't want Maeve to know his true identity yet.

"Did you come with your boss?" Maeve asked, remembering the smartly dressed executives in the elevator.

"Yes, I'm here for work," Byron replied casually.

Maeve frowned, confused. "You're just a driver. Why are you following your boss around? And you're dressed so..." She scrutinized him, causing his gaze to darken with worry. However, Maeve couldn't tell what was wrong. She continued, "You look like a bodyguard." She added, almost as an afterthought, "Though I can't imagine anyone needing a bodyguard like you." It was better that Maeve had drawn the wrong conclusion.

Byron remained silent.

"It's a part-time job," he answered curtly.

Maeve thought of Alexis, whom she had seen earlier. She couldn't identify Alexis's clothing brand, but her demeanor suggested she wasn't ordinary. Maeve concluded Byron probably came from a wealthy family, but that his parents favored their adopted son, forcing him to work hard to support himself, even facing threats. At this thought, a tender affection filled Maeve's gaze as she looked at Byron.

Byron stiffened under her affectionate gaze. His Adam's apple bobbed. "What?" he asked.

Aware of the many people around them, Byron wished Maeve would restrain herself. He wondered if she liked him that much.

"Nothing," Maeve shook her head. "He probably doesn't want pity," she thought. "Have you had lunch?" she asked.

Eternal Hope's higher-ups had reserved a private room overlooking the lake at Dalonis Court. They'd been heading there when interrupted. Maeve pondered for a moment, then said, "I know a newly opened spaghetti restaurant nearby. It's delicious!" Her eyes crinkled into crescents. "But will your boss scold you if you leave now?"

Bodyguards and drivers weren't always free; they were often on call.

"My boss?" Byron raised an eyebrow. Wasn't she heartbroken over her vegetables this morning and couldn't even eat breakfast? It's only been a few hours and her appetite's back? he thought. "I'm still allowed time to eat," he said, then added, "Let's go."

"Sure," Maeve replied immediately, following him.

The restaurant Maeve mentioned was across from the company, around the corner—easy to miss if you weren't looking carefully. It was small, with few customers, but offered a quiet, neatly arranged seating area.

After they sat, Maeve pushed the menu toward Byron. "What do you want to eat?"

Byron wasn't particularly interested in spaghetti, so he casually ordered and returned the menu. Maeve, however, took longer to decide, her indecision evident as she subconsciously bit her lip, leaving a clear mark. Byron looked away. "How are you doing at the new company?" he asked.

Maeve thought for a moment. "It's pretty good."

Good? Byron thought. She's been framed and bullied. What's good about it? His eyes darkened, but he kept his tone casual, saying nothing more.

Just then, a gentle voice said, "Maeve, are you having lunch here too?"

Alexis approached, then froze upon seeing the handsome man beside Maeve. "Who is this?" he asked.

Byron narrowed his eyes, recognizing the man who'd driven Maeve home in a Ferrari the previous night. He looked at Maeve expectantly. Maeve hesitated, then introduced Byron, "This is my uncle."

Byron's gaze instantly turned cold. "Maeve," he said, his voice tight with suppressed anger, "say that again?"

Maeve tugged his sleeve under the table and whispered, "Didn't you say you don't want others to know we're married? And you always say I'm young. I'll pretend to be your niece." Byron was speechless; that wasn't what he'd meant.

Alexis relaxed slightly. "Your uncle looks very..."

"I don't mind," Maeve interrupted. "Mr. Brown," she continued, turning to Alexis, "do you mind if I join you for lunch?"

"Go ahead," Alexis replied.

Byron's lips curled into a sneer. So it's the Brown family kid. We haven't even divorced yet, and she's already flirting with another guy in front of me? he thought. Maeve, unaware of his expression, asked Alexis curiously, "Why didn't you have lunch at the company canteen?" She'd heard from Ava that Alexis often stayed in the studio all day and only ate at the canteen for convenience.

Alexis smiled. "I happened to come out for some air and saw you." He omitted the fact that he'd followed her into the restaurant. He needed more inspiration to finish his design; perhaps Maeve would surprise him again.

Alexis's gaze lingered on Maeve, causing Byron to notice. His already cold expression grew even more unapproachable. Alex, aware of Byron's stare, started a conversation. "What do you do? You don't seem ordinary."

"I'm a driver," Byron said coldly.

Alex nodded. "A race car driver? No wonder you're so aloof." Byron's gaze felt like a sharp blade, making Alex uneasy. Maeve, handing out cutlery, almost choked. Does he really look like a race car driver? she wondered. She didn't think so. "My uncle is just an ordinary driver," she explained, handing Byron his utensils.

Byron calmed slightly, his expression softening.

Alex looked surprised. "He really doesn't look like it."

Byron's custom-made clothing was far beyond what a driver could afford; only the wealthiest Kleymond families could manage it. Custom clothing wasn't as easily identifiable as luxury brands. Being from a wealthy family himself, Alex recognized the quality immediately. However, he didn't point it out.

Maeve, too, thought Byron didn't look like a driver, attributing it to a good family background.

The waiter served their spaghetti.

Seeing Maeve ordered the same dish, Alex smiled. "It seems we have similar tastes."