After everyone left work, Maeve remained in the studio alone. She didn't leave the company until 11:30 p.m. Standing alone on the empty roadside, she waited for a taxi, hugging her jacket and silently praying for its arrival.

However, no taxi came. Instead, Jeff appeared. "Maeve, why aren't you home yet? It's dangerous to be out so late," he said, looking worried. "Let me take you home. How long will you have to wait?" Compared to what could have happened, however, Jeff was the real danger, especially since he had almost assaulted her before.

Maeve stepped back, looking around anxiously. There wasn't a single car. If Jeff wanted to harm her, shouting would be useless. When she saw Jeff get out of his car and approach, alarm bells rang in her mind. "It's so cold out here. Isn't it better to get in my car?" he said, grabbing her arm. "I won't hurt you. Why are you so afraid of me?" He pulled her toward the car.

"Don't touch me!" Maeve pushed him away, tense with fear.

At that moment, she spotted a car approaching in the distance. An idea struck her. Feigning calm, she said to Jeff, "I don't need you to take me home. Do you see that car? My husband is here to pick me up."

Jeff looked, unconvinced. He knew about her fake marriage, yet she still tried to deceive him with this ruse. Besides, her husband's car was no match for his Ferrari.

"Whatever. Just get in my car with me... Ah!" Before he finished, a sharp sting in his hand forced him to release her.

Maeve ran to the approaching car without hesitation. She was incredibly grateful she had a needle with her; otherwise, she might not have escaped. She knocked on the car window, wondering how to ask for help. To her surprise, the window rolled down, revealing a handsome man. "Mr. McDaniel?" Maeve's eyes widened in joy. "Why are you here?" She hadn't even noticed the car's color—it was the same as Byron's new car.

"I just happened to be passing by," Byron said calmly, noting her surprised expression. "What are you doing wandering around so late at night?"

Maeve was about to explain when she saw Jeff chasing her. Her hair stood on end. "Can I get in the car, please?"

Byron nodded.

Maeve immediately got into the passenger seat. "Let's go!"

Byron's gaze swept over the approaching Jeff. He narrowed his eyes and sped away.

After driving for a while, Maeve's tense body finally relaxed, though her palms were still sweaty. "Mr. McDaniel, thank God you appeared," she said, still shaken. "Otherwise, he would have forced me into his car."

Jeff couldn't have just happened to be there; he had deliberately waited for her. Knowing this, she would have rather slept in the studio.

Byron looked straight ahead. "Is your phone useless? Why didn't you call me if you couldn't get a ride?"

Maeve shrank her neck, forgetting their earlier argument. She mumbled, "Didn't you forbid me from calling you for no reason? Why is it wrong if I don't call?" The truth was, she had deleted his number in a fit of anger.

Byron's lips curled coldly. "I told you not to call, so you didn't. When I asked you to kiss me, why weren't you as obedient then?"

His words brought back the embarrassing memories of the previous night. Maeve blushed. "T-that's different," she retorted angrily.

"Different how?"

Maeve clenched her sleeves, wanting to ask why he treated her that way since he liked Karen. She wondered if it was just lust. But she couldn't bring herself to ask, not wanting to humiliate herself. She pursed her lips, lowering her head to find a tissue. She saw a familiar paper bag in the glove compartment.

"Mr. McDaniel, didn't you say you don't drink these kinds of drinks?" Maeve asked, confused. He'd said sugary drinks were unhealthy.

Byron's profile was cold. "Someone gave it to me. I'm not interested."

"Then I'll drink it for you?" Maeve offered eagerly.

"Suit yourself."

Maeve took out the cup. It was still warm. She inserted a straw and took a sip. "This is honey lemon tea?" she said, surprised. The honey was rich, the lemon not too tart. It was delicious.

"Is that so? I'm not sure," Byron said, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he took a shortcut back to the apartment.

Maeve realized his nonchalant attitude meant he probably hadn't even opened the bag. He wasn't interested in such drinks; even if he'd known, he wouldn't drink a girl's drink like honey lemon tea. She felt lucky to get a free drink.

Maeve was about to put the bag back when she noticed the bottom was bulging. Inside were several cream puffs.

She tore open the packaging and ate one. Thinking of Byron, she offered him one. "Mr. McDaniel, would you like one?"

Byron was about to refuse, but seeing her carefully offering it, his Adam's apple bobbed. They were approaching a traffic light. He stopped and turned, biting the puff from her hand. One side of his face bulged slightly as he chewed slowly.

Maeve stared blankly. The warmth of his lips lingered on her fingertips. Heat flooded her face. Feeling as though she'd been electrocuted, she retracted her hand and pretended to open another puff, hiding her panic.

After eating several puffs and more than half the tea, Maeve's cold, empty stomach was finally full. It had been a long, exhausting day. Even though the puffs were high-calorie, they were too good to resist. From the corner of his eye, Byron saw her contented expression. His lips curved slightly, then quickly returned to their normal position.

Back at the apartment, Maeve was full and skipped supper. After showering and applying medicine, she went to bed.

However, she couldn't find her burn ointment. She searched the first-aid kit, but it was gone. It had been there that morning. She had no choice but to ask Byron, "Mr. McDaniel, did you see my burn cream?"