The Heir's Secret Bride

Maeve immediately sensed something was off. "Is your wound acting up again? You just told me you were fine. This is your idea of 'fine?"

Without waiting for Byron to respond, she grabbed his arm and guided him back to the living room. "You refuse to go to the hospital, but I know a thing or two about first aid. If you don't mind, I can help."

Byron frowned but didn't argue this time, letting out a low grunt of agreement. Maeve guided him to the sofa and carefully lifted his shirt to check the wound. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the bandage on his abdomen, soaked through with blood. The wound's so torn up, yet he still managed to take Jeff down with one kick. Is he really that strong, or is Jeff just that useless?" she wondered.

Shoving those thoughts aside, Maeve started unwrapping the bandage, her voice soft and reassuring. Tll go as easy as I can. If it hurts, just tell me."

Byron's eyes stayed fixed on her. Her face was so close to his wound that he could feel her warm, gentle breath against his

skin.

Skin.

She must have just showered-he caught a faint scent of white lily, light and soothing. With each careful movement, the fragrance seemed to draw closer, filling the air around them. Time felt as if it were stretching, suspended in this intimate moment.

All done, Maeve finally said, stepping back with a satisfied smile after finishing the new bandage. Just keep it dry and avoid anything too physical, or you'll tear it open again"

Byron swallowed hard as he listened to her gentle instructions "Em sorry for jumping to conclusions earlier," he said, his voice low but sincere.

Maeve blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected apology. She looked up and met his deep brown eyes. They were calm, like a still pond, yet held a distant, unreachable quality, like the light of a faraway star-mysterious and impossible to fully grasp Her heart sk***ed a beat. "It's... it's fine. I had no idea my ex was behind all this, so I get why you'd think the worst."

She wanted to reassure him that it truly didn't matter, that she hadn't been bothered that much. But the words caught in her

throat.

All the frustration, anger, fear, and uncertainty she had buried deep inside swelled up like a balloon. Byron's simple apology felt like a pin, causing it all to burst wide open. Emotions surged through Maeve, making her eyes burn and sting until she could hardly hold back the tears.

Then, suddenly, the room plunged into darkness-the power had gone out.

The tears Maeve had been fighting so hard to hold back spilled over in an instant, streaming silently down her cheeks.

"It's fine, really. This happens all the time around here. The power should be back soon," Maeve murmured, her voice strained as she tried to reassure Byron, forcing herself to sound steady.

She cried quietly, her face composed except for the tears pooling in her eyes. A few hot droplets splashed onto the back of Byron's hand, betraying her facade.

Seriously? My apology scared her so much she's crying? What the hell? Byron thought, frustration flickering across his face. He pressed his lips into a thin line and walked off toward some corner of the living room.

GB

Maeve was doing her best to keep it together, determined not to show Byron how vulnerable she felt. But just then, the lights flickered back on.

Surprised, she glanced up, her red, swollen eyes meeting Byron. He stood by the light switch, staring at her with a blank expression. Then, calmly, he flicked the lights off again. "Go ahead and cry. I'm not turning the lights back on," his deep voice cut through the darkness, Maeve was speechless, caught between frustration and an unexpected urge to laugh. Strangely enough, the heaviness in her chest began to lift, dissolving like soap bubbles carried away by her tears. Her heart felt a little lighter.

You

You

turn them back on now. I'm done," she said.

The lights came back on, and Maeve straightened up as if nothing had happened. Tm worried there might still be hidden cameras," she said, quickly changing the subject. "Can you check for me? Byron gave a curt nod

y concerned about

After a thorough search of the room, they both felt relieved to find no more cameras. Maeve was especially com her bedroom and bathroom, but luckily, both were clear.

When they reached Byron's room, Maeve opened the door and said, I didn't expect you to move in so quickly, so I haven't had time torget everything ready. Like your bed. Byron's face remained unreadable as he looked at her. "So, Tm dleeping on the floor tonight?"

Macre hesitated, thinking, 'Letting an injured man sleep on the floor! That just doesn't sit right. But the only bed is in my

TODIL

"How about... you share my bed?" Maeve blurted out before she could stop herself.

Byron's face instantly darkened, like storm clouds gathering in his eyes

Maeve noticed his displeasure and scratched her cheek awkwardly. "If it's a problem for you, I can always take the couch...”

NO O need." Byron cut her off, his voice cold and firm. "We'll do it your way."

He reassured himself that it was just for a few days. At least there, no one was breathing down his neck. He thought sharing a bed with her wasn't something he couldn't handle. Late at night, after a day of total chaos, Maeve finally started to relax as she sank into the soft bed, feeling her muscles slowly unwind.

Just when she was about to drift off, the mattress shifted slightly. She turned her head and found herself staring at Byron's handsome profile, and her breath hitched in her throat.

How did ver notice how small my is? she thought, suddenly aware of how cramped it felt. Even with a stuffed animal acting as a makeshifi barrier, they were still uncomfortably close. So close she could hear his slow, steady breathing. "If you've got something on your mind, just spit it out," Byron said, sensing her eyes on him. His tone was flat, almost bored. Maeve, caught red-handed, felt felt her cheeks flush. But curiosity got the better of her. "Uh, can I ask... what do you do for a living?" The first time she met him, he'd been beaten up and on the run from some dangerous people.

Today, he seemed to have been dumped by his fiancée, only to end up marrying her instead. His life looked like a mess, but he had skills. She was especially amazed at how quickly he had found the hidden camera inside her stuffed animal. Byron's eyes narrowed as he glanced at her. 'Is she seriously playing dumb to get me to drop my guard?' he wondered.

"I drive," he said, shrugging like it was nothing.

Maeve let out a

a small sigh of relief. 'So he's a driver. That's not so bad. At least it's not something shady. And it kinda makes sense with the situation I'm in, she thought. Comforted by that idea, she closed her eyes and began to drift off.

Byron, on the other hand, was finding it hard to relax. The bed was too small, the mattress wasn't exactly soft, and even the pillow felt like a rock. But what really got under his skin was Maeve's hair.

A few stray strands of her hair had drifted over to his side, brushing against his ear. He clenched his teeth, resisting the urge to touch it. His brow furrowed in frustration.

"Is she doing this on purpose?" he wondered.

The morning sunlight was gentle yet warm, spilling into the bedroom and casting a soft, golden glow over the bed. The two figures were tangled up so closely it seemed there wasn't an inch of space between them. Byron's internal clock was as precise as ever. At seven sharp, he stirred awake, his eyes still half-closed with sleep. But something felt ofl-something warm and soft was pressed up against him.

He glanced down and saw Maeve, who should have been on the other side of the bed, now somehow nestled in his arms.

Her cheeks were tinged with a soft pink, resting against his chest her arms wrapped around his, and one of her long legs

draped over his. She was sound asleep.

Byron's face darkened. He tried to push her away, but she clung to him so tightly he could barely move. Frustrated, he gave her nose a light pinch. Within seconds, she jerked awake, gasping for air. Still groggy, Maeve blinked up at him in confusion, only to meet his cold, irritated glare. "Maeve, get off me. Now! Byron's voiceNôvelDrama.Org is the owner.

Her eyes widened as she realized how tightly she was wrappeough the last remnants of her sleep and sending a chill down her spine

was wrapped around him.

'Oh shit! The soft, cozy thing I was hugging wasn't my stuffed animal-it's Byron Her face flushed a deep red. She scrambled away, her movements frantic and awkward, trying to get to the edge of the bed. "I-I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to 1 usually sleep so much better.she stammered, her voice full of embarrassment and frantic apologies. !!

Byron's frustration only deepened as he listened to her babble. How many times has she said it wasn't on purpose since we got married? Playing innocent while pleg her moves-just like the rest of the McDaniel family,' he thought darkly He gave her a cold, hard stare and snapped, "Stay the hell away from me." With that, he tossed off the covers, climbed out of bed, and stormed out of the room.

Maeve bit back the urge to blurt out, "I mistook you for a d***n pillow! Instead, she swallowed her words, feeling a bit suffocated by his attitude.

Id

Annoyed, she thought, "Seriously? It's not like I did it on purpose. But he acts like I'm some seductress trying to make a move on him-what the hell does he think I am? I've got to get his room set up soon.

Muttering under her breath, Maeve got out of bed to wash up. Afterward, she carefully changed Byron's bandages before heading to the kitchen to make breakfast.

Byron, now dressed in fresh clothes his bodyguard had dropped off the night before, picked up his watch from the living room table and strapped it onto his wrist.

He glanced over at the kitchen, where Maeve was busy prepping ingredients for two servings, and said coolly, "Don't bother making breakfast for me. I don't eat in the mornings"

"Skipping breakfast is bad for your stomach, Maeve replied without turning around. "I'll be done in a minute, and my cooking's not half bad. You might even like it.

"I said no..."

"Relax. I'm not charging you for it."

Byron was momentarily thrown off. He glanced at the clock-forty minutes until his morning meeting.

He figured she was trying to win him over with food. "If it were that d***n easy, I'd have just married a chef, he thought, annoyed