The Heir's Secret Bride

At the apartment, Maeve took a short nap in the afternoon.

After waking up, she submitted some design drafts for others and logged into her email to check for updates.

Still no replies to the resumes she'd sent out,

Even the notification that her final payment had come through couldn't lift her mood.

Freelance work was just a side hustle-her real passion was in design.

But she thought, 'At this rate, will I ever land a full-time job?'

With a sigh, Maeve glanced at the time and headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

0

That afternoon, she had spent some of her freelance earnings on high-quality ingredients, planning to thank Byron with a nice meal.

But even after the food went cold, he still hadn't come home.

When the doorbell finally rang, Maeve rushed to answer it, only to find it was just a drink delivery.

She took the drinks back to the table, muttering to herself, "If he's working late, he could at least let me know."

She had put a lot of effort into this dinner.

After finishing the meal and drink by herself, Maeve rested for a bit before heading out for her night run.

This area was far from her old apartment, so even if the stalker had been persistent, it'd be nearly impossible to follow her here.

Still, she stayed cautious, choosing well-lit routes with more people around.NôvelDrama.Org holds © this.

Meanwhile, in the car, Archer glanced at the heavy traffic ahead and turned to Byron in the backseat. "Mr. Mcdaniel, this road gets really jammed at night. We'll be stuck here for a while." A last-n st-minute international video conference had kept them at the office until just now. Otherwise, they could have avoided the rush hour traffic.

"Okay," Byron responded, leaning against the window, staring outside with little interest.

"Mr. Mcdaniel, you haven't had dinner yet. Should I book a table at your usual restaurant?" Archer asked.

Without looking up, Byron replied, "No need. I'll eat at home."

"Understood."

Just then, he caught sight of a familiar figure jogging past the car The swaying black ponytail was unmistakable-it was Maeve.

Raising an eyebrow, Byron told the driver and Archer to head back without him. He got out of the car and started walking in

her direction.

Both the driver and Archer were puzzled, thinking, 'Does Mr. Mcdaniel really decide to walk home just to avoid traffic?"

Maeve, distracted by a fast food restaurant, slowed her pace and stared at the place.

то

"What are you doing out here?" A low, familiar voice suddenly spoke behind her.

Startled, Maeve turned to see Byron standing right in front of her. "Mr. Mcdaniel, you're done with work?"

"Yeah." With one hand in his pocket, Byron glanced at the nearby fast-food stalls, his expression showing clear disapproval. "Don't tell me you're planning to eat this stuff." "What do you mean, this stuff"? It's delicious!" Maeve retorted.

To prove her point, she immediately bought two small pizzas and handed one to him.

"I don't want it," Byron declined flatly. "I'm not hungry.""

Maeve shrugged and took a bite of both pizzas. "More for me. It's so good!"

She smiled contentedly, looking like a little hamster enjoying its snack.

Byron let out a quiet scoff. "You always reward yourself with junk food after a run. Are you exercising for fitness or just to indulge afterward?" Maeve's smile instantly faded. Remembering how determined she had been earlier, the pizzas in her hands suddenly felt a bit too heavy.

Frustrated, she pouted. "Why do you always have to rain on my parade right when I'm enjoying something? Can't you until I'm done eating?" wait

At least that way, she could pretend she didn't know better.

Byron shook his head slightly, about to say something, when he noticed something in the reflection of a nearby store window.

A group of shady-looking men, dressed like troublemakers, were lurking not far away, their eyes locked on them.

It seemed like they were concealing weapons in their pockets, briefly exposed when they moved.

Byron's gaze turned icy. He thought, 'Are these men after me or Maeve?"

"Maeve," he said in a low, serious tone.

She

looked up, confused. "What is it?"

"Stop eating. We're being followed."

Startled, Maeve instinctively began to turn around.

Byron quickly placed a hand on the back of her head, speaking softly but firmly. "Don't look. Run. Now."

Before she could fully process what was happening, he grabbed her left hand and led her swiftly through the crowd, cutting a direct path forward.

The men following them noticed and immediately took off after them.

The street was packed with people, but as they neared the end, the crowd thinned out.

By then,

Maeve had long since lost the pizza she was holding. Dragged along by Byron, she wasn't even sure how far they had run. Her lungs burned, and she was gasping for air. Already exhausted from her earlier run, she was at her limit.

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"Wait... Mr. Mcdaniel... can't... keep going..."

Hearing this, Byron's brow furrowed. "Troublesome."

The men were closing in fast, and the path ahead was blocked by a dead-end fence.

Without warning, Byron stopped and scooped Maeve up into his arms. Ignoring her startled cry, he vaulted over the barrier with ease and landed smoothly on the other side, quickly heading in the opposite direction. Maeve instinctively wrapped her arms around his shoulders, clinging tightly to avoid falling while trying to make herself as light as possible.

The men chasing them hesitated at the drop from the third-story height and didn't dare jump down. They were forced to take a detour.

It turned out having long legs really did have its perks.

Even with Maeve in tow, Byron easily outpaced the group, eventually finding cover beside a flowerbed near a building. Maeve was about to climb down from his arms when he pressed a hand on her shoulder, whispering, "Stay still." Confused, she froze, just in time to hear the men approaching, muttering angrily to each other. "Damn it, we almost had them."

"Enough whining! We need to find that woman and report back to Mr. Graves."

Maeve thought, "Mr. Graves? Could they mean Jeff?' Her eyes widened in shock. 'Are these men sent by Jeff to capture What could he possibly want now?'

She

She stiffened in Byron's arms, her body instinctively pressing closer to his. From his vantage point, he could easily see the small swirl of hair at the top of her head. The subtle scent of her hair wafted up to him, even stronger now than when they had shared a bed earlier. It was familiar- the same scent as his usual shampoo. Byron's eyes darkened with a mix of emotions.

Maeve, oblivious to his thoughts, waited anxiously for any sign that the men had left.

Just as she turned to ask if it was safe, her lips accidentally brushed against something cool and soft. Her words died in her throat, and her eyes flew wide open in shock. Byron was momentarily taken aback by her unexpected move, and the irritation already simmering inside him flared into a heated rush.

Sensing that Maeve was trying to pull away, Byron quickly took control, firmly pressing her head back toward him.

His eyes, half-shadowed in the dim light, were dark and intense.

"Maeve, do you just enjoy getting under my skin?"

His deep voice carried a dangerous edge, leaving her no room to retreat. He captured her lips in a forceful, dominating kiss, asserting his control and refusing to back down.