The Heir's Secret Bride
Secret Bride 431

Chapter 431

Maeve had never met anyone pettier than Byron. One teasing comment, and he'd punished her the whole night.

Erancia's moon at four in the morning was bright and round.

Later, Byron carried Maeve back to bed, wrapped her in his arms, and rested his chin on her freshly dried hair, closing his eyes in contentment,

Exhausted, Maeve lay still, too tired to even move her fingers. Sleepily, she asked, "So, when are you leaving?"

There was no way he could stay here forever. Her body, especially her waist, couldn't keep up with him.

Maeve wasn't sure where Byron found the energy. He worked long days, yet still managed to keep her up all night.

"Why? Want me to leave?" Byron's voice was a low rasp, laced with lingering desire, and it made her heart skip.

Maeve had already been swept away by his charm far too many times that night. He'd only seemed to grow more intense since they'd cleared the air between them last time, especially in certain ways.

Maeve shrank back. "No, I was just curious about your sudden visit. What about work back home?"

Byron pulled her closer, his voice soft. "The company won't fall apart if I take some time off. The Mcdaniel Group is becoming more international, so I'll be traveling more. I came out a bit early this time, just to check in."

There were still loose ends. Business espionage didn't end just because one spy was caught. If there was one mole, there were likely more.

Maeve listened quietly before asking, "So, where do you get all this energy?"

"Hm?"

"Aren't you tired?"

"Of course." Byron chuckled, leaning into her neck, still fragrant from her shower. He kissed her shoulder slowly. "But even if I'm exhausted, I still have enough in me to make sure some 'petty' woman doesn't think I'm only here to keep her company in bed." Mãeve squirmed at his touch, trying to ignore the sting of his words. He'd been especially attentive the past few nights, which only irritated her more.

If he didn't care, he should've just left her alone instead of acting like he was doing her a favor.

Maeve fell asleep quickly, drifting into a deep, dreamless rest. Despite the late night, she woke surprisingly réfreshed.

After Byron dropped Maeve off at Trazir headquarters, he took the kids to his office again, just as he had the day before. Though the kids preferred to stay with her, they had no choice.

Maeve smiled, picturing her two little ones giving her puppy-dog eyes as she left. It was good for them to spend time with their father. Relationships needed nurturing, especially between Byron and Theo.

- As Maeve approached the lecture hall, she heard faint laughter from inside and paused at the door, catching snippets of

conversation.

"Trazir's never let outsiders join training before. Sure, she's talented, but who here isn't? That smile she gave Mr. Richard yesterday? Please! Just another gold-digger using her looks to get ahead." "Sandy, isn't that a bit harsh? Maeve was a royal designer, after all. Knowing Mr. Richard doesn't make her a loose woman,"

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14-21 Sun, Dec 8

Chapter 431

one woman said,

"Sandy, think before you speak," one woman warned.

"And as women, we're supposed to support each other. Trashing her without proof just makes you look bad, not her, another woman said.

Most of the people present were women, who were intelligent and not so quick to believe rumors.

Some women, tired of Sandy's gossip, who also admired Maeve walked away. Sandy's face reddened with anger as she prepared a retort, until the door swung open.

Heads turned. A figure moved in and without hesitation, raised her hand and slapped Sandy across the face. Sandy's face swelled and her hair was a mess.

The room fell silent, everyone frozen in shock at Maeve's sudden move.

Sandy clutched her swollen cheek. "Fuck!""

Maeve grabbed Sandy's arm and twisted it behind Sandy's back, pushing her down until her face hovered over the table.

Maeve'd picked up some judo skills, not enough against a pro, but plenty to handle Sandy.

Holding/Sandy down, Maeve's voice was cold. "Weren't you just having fun? Go on. Why so quiet now?"

Sandy's face flushed red, her body pinned to the table. She gritted her teeth, helplessly restrained.

"Well, looks like Sandy finally met her match," someone murmured. Most of the onlookers had little sympathy for Sandy, whose loose tongue had hurt others plenty of times.

Maeve leaned closer, her gaze icy. "Was it you who locked me in the bathroom yesterday and dumped that dirty water on me? Not much skill, but a lot of nerve. Someone like you shouldn't be leading anyone here." Sandy struggled. "Let me go!"

"Apologize, or I'll break your arm."

"Dream on! Ahh!"

Maeve twisted Sandy's arm slightly, listening to Sandy's cry with pure indifference. "One last chance, or I'll take your other

arm next."

Sandy trembled, cold sweat beading on her brow. She'd underestimated Maeve, mistaking her quiet confidence for weakness. But this woman was a thorned rose, beautiful, but dangerous to cross. Shaken, Sandy stammered, "I-I'm sorry! I won't do it again!"

Maeve threatened, "If anything like last night happens again, I'll assume you're behind it. So if you want both arms intact, remember when you see me."

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