Maeve's beautiful teary eyes were filled with tears. When she heard what Byron said, she immediately sniffed. "Why don't you try it and see if it hurts?"

She had been dragged away by the motorcycle for quite a distance. Now, the wounds hurt so much that she seemed to be about to lose consciousness. She held it in and did not scream.

Byron's fixed his eyes on her pitiful face and his lips pursed slightly.

"Take a shortcut back to Nightfall Manor. Archer, call Dr. Harold Foster and tell him to wait there," Byron instructed seriously.

Archer, the chauffeur in the front seat, immediately replied, "Okay, Mr. Mcdaniel."

Byron lowered his head slightly and used a pair of scissors to cut off Maeve's bloodstained socks to prevent the blood and flesh from adhering more tightly, which would not be conducive to cleaning the wounds. After the socks were torn off the wounds, the wounds that had already stopped bleeding began to bleed again.

Maeve pursed her lips tightly and did not make a single sound throughout the entire process. She only gripped her sleeves so tightly that they turned pale.

Byron pressed down on the bleeding wounds with gauze and looked at her in surprise. "You can scream if it hurts. No one will laugh at you."

"It doesn't hurt that much." Maeve exhaled softly. "It's still bearable."

Seeing that she was pretending to be calm, Byron did not expose her. He asked in a nonchalant tone, "Why did your parents ask you to go home?"

"How do you know that I didn't go home voluntarily?" Maeve could not help but be curious.

"You wouldn't look for trouble for no reason," Byron said casually. He pressed a new piece of clean gauze on her wounds. Maeve moved her ankles uncomfortably, but he held them down. "Stop moving."

His warm fingers pressed against her cold ankles. The overly clear touch made her gradually numb, and she forgot to avoid him.

Maeve took a deep breath and calmed herself down before answering his question. "Yes, they did ask me to go home."

"For what?" Byron asked.

Maeve pursed her lips and did not speak.

These days, she had never forgotten the gap between her and Byron. She just didn't think about it so often.

What Horace and her parents said made her realize once again that she and Byron had never belonged to the same class.

He was the only heir of a prominent family with a strong background.

As for Maeve, she was about to lose her home.

It was probably because Maeve had been silent for so long that Byron's gaze on her became deeper and deeper, but he did not say a word.

When they arrived at the manor, Harold had been waiting for a long time.

After examining and treating Maeve's wound, he said to Byron respectfully, "Ms. Reese just needs to apply medicine to her injured parts for a few days, and she'll be fine. She'll have to keep water away from the abrasions for three days to avoid infection. Also, she'll need to use the medicine on time." "Okay. Thank you." Byron nodded slightly. "Put down the medicine and leave us."

"Alright." Dr. Garcia left with the first aid kit.

The master bedroom suddenly became quiet.

Maeve looked down at the graze on her palm and said self-deprecatingly, "It seems that Ms. Mason was right. I really should work on my luck."

She had been injured several times in that th

"That's superstition." Byron returned from his call and handed her the ice pack. "Press it on your wrist."

Maeve took it and did as he said.

The pain on her swollen and hot wrist eased a little.

The silence made her uncomfortable. Maeve wanted to say something to ease the tension, but when she recalled what had happened a few days ago, she didn't really want to speak.

She was grateful that Byron had helped her, but she would not forget what he had done before because of this. However, before she could say anything, Byron spoke, "Maeve, have you been avoiding me recently?" Maeve froze slightly and subconsciously shook her head. "No. You're thinking too much."

Byron stared at her avoiding look and sneered. "Do I look that gullible?"

Maeve avoided his sharp gaze and looked down.

"Previously, you asked me if the destruction of the evidence was related to me." Byron's expression was serious. "Alex has been investigating that matter behind the scenes. What did he tell you?" Maeve answered, "Nothing..."

"Nothing?" Byron interrupted her harshly. "Why don't you tell me why you're suspecting me now? I want to hear how ridiculous the reason is."

Maeve slowly frowned. "I'm not suspecting you."

She was telling the truth.

She was thinking, 'Byron knows that Karen poisoned me, which almost ruined my face, but he still chose to side with Karen without hesitation. 'Of course, he'd destroy the evidence and bail out Karen.

"That's the truth. There's no need for me to doubt it.'

Byron pursed his lips and stared at her gloomily, asking, "Then why are you avoiding me? Hmm?"

"Aren't you avoiding me too?" Maeve asked. "Other than eating together, you're never around. How can you say that I'm avoiding you?"

Byron's expression froze and his Adam's apple bobbed. "I've been busy."

At the end of the year, the company was busy. Byron even had to make time to eat with her.

"I've also been very busy," Maeve said. "I'm busy working on a big client's order while I have to make time to think about your suit design. How would I have the time to avoid you?" She said the last sentence righteously.

Byron raised his eyebrows. "Is that so? Then where is your design? Let me take a look."

Maeve's expression immediately became guilty. "It's not done yet. Wait a little longer..." Byron almost laughed out of anger.

He thought, 'It's been so long, but it's still not done. Is she fooling me now?'

0

Before he could say anything, Maeve suddenly covered her stomach. "My, my stomach hurts. I need to go to the bathroom. Please carry me there!"

She thought that at this moment, running away was the best solution.

Otherwise, if he found out that she had not even started working on the design, he would probably throw her out.

Byron saw through her clumsy acting and his cheeks tightened slightly.

He said, "Show me the blueprint the day after tomorrow, do you hear me?"

When Maeve heard that he needed it the day after tomorrow, her expression was bitter. She wondered, 'If I do my best to catch up on my work, it will work out... right?'

After entering the bathroom, Maeve was still thinking about the design when she suddenly felt the hem of her shirt being lifted.

She immediately came back to her senses and hurriedly grabbed Byron with her uninjured right hand. "What are you doing?" She wondered why he lifted her shirt for no reason.

Byron looked up slightly and looked at her indifferently. "Aren't you in a hurry to go to the bathroom? Can you take off your pants now?"

He sounded so straightforward that Maeve's face turned red. "I-I'm not crippled. Why can't I do it?"

"Then you do it." Byron looked at her calmly.

Maeve was about to go crazy. "How can I take my pants off while you're still here?"

Byron looked her up and down. "Are you sure you can stand steadily if I let go now?"

She could barely move her most severely injured right ankle, and there were many abrasions on her left foot.

Not to mention standing, she could not even stabilize herself while leaning on the wall.

Maeve suddenly felt like she had shot herself in the foot.

She regretted making the excuse she made.

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