Bonnie guessed from Maeve's expression that something had happened. Recalling her previous advice, she hesitantly suggested, "Maeve, it's better not to get too emotionally invested in him. I don't think he's right for you."

"Huh?" Maeve said, snapping out of her thoughts. Puzzlement filled her eyes. "Why did you say that?"

Bonnie sighed. "You don't understand." She thought, No husband would be unconcerned if his wife dated many other men. Mr. McDaniel clearly doesn't care about Maeve. I'm worried she'll get hurt. "Let's go shopping," she said aloud.

Maeve, seeing Bonnie's melancholic look, wanted to laugh. She pulled Bonnie toward the elevator. As for Byron... I don't care where he goes, she thought. I don't want to see him right now.

Bonnie suddenly stopped. "By the way, Maeve, the surname 'McDaniel' is uncommon. The only one I know is the McDaniel Group. Could your husband be from that family?"

Maeve found this both amusing and annoying. "No way," she said. "He's just a driver. His parents might be well-off, but not comparable to the McDaniel Group."

"It's such a rare name," Bonnie mused, touching her chin. "Maybe your husband is a McDaniel scion."

Maeve laughed. "You're overthinking. The world is huge. It's only strange if their first and last names match, right?"

Bonnie recalled, "I haven't interacted with the McDaniel family, but I've heard things from older people. The scion... everyone calls him 'Great Demon King' and rarely uses his name. I heard it's Brycen or Bryan—not Byron."

Maeve thought, Bryce. After a moment, she said, "Mr. McDaniel is definitely not that scion. Do you think a high-status McDaniel scion would be someone's driver?"

Bonnie shook her head frantically. "Unless he's gone crazy."

Maeve laughed. "Exactly. Mr. McDaniel is an ordinary driver, living in a small apartment and working hard. He doesn't have to be a scion. He's great as he is."

Bonnie, a touch jealous, winked. "Maeve, you're smitten! How can you say you're not in love with him?"

Maeve's ears flushed. "I'm just being fair."

"That's unconvincing."

They laughed and joked, soon forgetting the episode.

Around seven o'clock, their karaoke plans were cancelled. They hurried back to the apartment. Maeve ran to the balcony and saw her lettuce trampled, with small footprints in the soil.

She frowned, turning to Byron, who was watching a tablet in the living room. "Mr. McDaniel, did rats get in?"

She'd rushed back after receiving a message from Byron, fearing more damage to her vegetables. Fortunately, only the lettuce was harmed. But her heart ached.

"Maybe," Byron said impassively. "The house is old."

Maeve muttered, "Damn rats, I'll buy poison tomorrow," as she patted the soil.

Byron's thin lips curled as he tapped his fingertip. On his tablet, Ray's message appeared: [What did you do to my hamster son? My maid said it was covered in soil. Did you toss it around?] Byron replied: [Just letting it experience some hardship.] Ray: [What?] My precious son only needs a comfortable life, Byron thought.

Unaware of their conversation, Maeve patted the soil. Bonnie's words echoed in her mind: If he's a McDaniel scion, he wouldn't live in a small house with rats. Mr. McDaniel is just an ordinary person. She smiled, tidied up, washed her hands, and cleaned the house. It was spotless, puzzling her about the rats' entry. She concluded they'd come from her neighbor's house and went to shower. Byron glanced at her, a leisurely smile on his lips.

The design exhibition loomed, creating tension in the company. Even the laziest designers focused, afraid to hinder others' progress. Maeve spent most of her time in the studio, creating clothing. The crewelwork on the gowns was the most difficult; this step was omitted in sample garments but not now. She worked tirelessly. Every time she finished a section, her vision blurred when she looked away. She rushed to complete the tasks. A week before the exhibition, she submitted the finished garments.

The night before the exhibition, the gowns were returned to the designers for safekeeping. This rule was implemented after a previous incident where garments disappeared from storage.

Maeve went to the pantry for water, replying to messages on her phone.

Bonnie: [Maeve, free this afternoon? My friend's having a coffee party, and I need company. Come with me! I want to introduce you to someone.]

Maeve chuckled. [Your timing is perfect! What time?]

Bonnie sent the details, offering to pick her up. Maeve took a taxi instead.

The venue was a luxurious villa with a garden and fountain. In the glass conservatory, string curtains swayed, green plants surrounded it, and delicate pastries were displayed. It felt like a classical palace.

Maeve entered, and the socialites glanced at her, their disdain barely concealed in their frowns.

Bonnie arrived, linking arms with Maeve. "Maeve, you're here! Sit with me."

The others retracted their disdainful gazes. This friend of the Hancock heiress must be significant, they thought, despite Maeve's unremarkable attire.