The Heir's Secret Bride

Maeve hesitated before dialing Byron's mumber again. She didn't want to come off as needy, so she decided to just wait it out, hoping he'd get back to her sooner or later.

Almost a full day had passed without a single bite to cat. Her stomach growled and twisted in pain, and eventually, exhaustion took over. She drifted into a restless sleep, too drained and hungry to keep her eyes open any longer. what felt like forever, Maeve woke up groggily, squinting at her phone to see it was already past ten in the morning.

After

She realized she'd been stuck in this room for nearly twenty-four hours, and her phone battery was barely holding on at three percent.

She stared at her phone, her heart sinking as there were no missed calls or messages. A wave of despair washed over her. She shut her eyes and curled up on the cold floor, trying to ignore the gnawing hunger.

Is he too busy to call back, or did he just forget about me?' she wondered, pulling her knees closer to her chest, shielding her eyes with her hand.

The hunger was bad, but the endless, crushing darkness was worse.

the executive office at Mcdaniel Group, the afternoon sun poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing Byron in a warm, golden light as he sat behind his desk. With his sharp looks and commanding presence, he was every inch the powerful CEO Mr. McDaniel, you just got over a fever and barely slept last night," Archer said for the third time as he entered the office. "If you keep pushing yourself like this, you're gonna crash. Plus, it's time to change the dressing on your wound," Byron put down the contract and, with a swift flick of his wrist, signed his name with bold, decisive strokes-sharp and unyielding, just like him

"What time is it?" he asked.

"It's already five in the afternoon. Id b***ds?"

left. Said they'd talk to your f

father.

capped his pen slowly, a cold smile tugging at his lips. "Let them try. If they think that'll make me change my mind..." grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and stood up. Have the driver bring the car around." "Oh, by the way, Mr. McDaniel, your grandfather called again last night. He's insisting you visit soon," Archer added.

Byron gave a brief nod, his thoughts suddenly flashing back to Maeve's call from two days ago. He picked up his phone and dialed her number.

The call connected

me

I almost immediately. 'Something's come up I won't be coming home tonight, Byron said as he stepped out of the office. was about to hang up when a faint voice stopped him in his tracks. "Help me...

His grip tightened on the phone. "Where are you?"

"Kye been locked up by my parents. If you could just-Maeve's voice cut off abruptly as the phone beeped, signaling the battery had died. Byron quickly redialed, but the call went straight to voicemail. A deep frown creased his brow.

"Mr. McDaniel, your grandfather called again-he's insisting you visit soon," Archer said, hurrying over.

Byron's gaze lingered on his phone for a moment before he gave a slight nod and stepped into the elevator.

In t the underground parking lot, he settled into the back seat of the car, pressing his fingers lightly against the wound on his abdomen, his mind deep in thought. Take me to the Reese residence, he instructed. "Yes, sir." the driver replied.

f an hour later, they arrived at the Reese residence.

Scott had an engagement that evening, and Valda was out shopping, leaving Maeve alone at home.

After nearly two days and nights of being locked up. Maeve was completely drained. She lay on the cold floor, barely conscious, her strength almost entirely spent.

What jolted Maeve awake was the loud crack of the door lock breaking and the blinding rush of light flooding into the dark storage room.

Through the glare, she saw Byron's tall, commanding figure striding toward her, his presence cutting through the light.

Maeve squinted up at him, her hand weakly grasping the hem of Byron's coat. Her voice was a hoarse whisper. "Help... helpPlease check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

Byron looked down at her frail, trembling hands, his face impassive. "Can you move?"

Maeve shook her head weakly, her movements slow and labored.

"Ugh, how troublesome," Byron muttered, his impatience evident.

Maeve b

bit t her dry lips, her fingers loosening their grip on his coat.

But before she could react, Byron bent down and lifted her into his arms, turning to carry her out

Maeve, taken aback, stared u I up at his sharp jawline as a wave of dizziness hit her. She closed her eyes, pressing her hands against her stomach to soothe the gnawing hunger.

As they reached the bottom of Valda's face twisted in shock. "How did you get in here? Put my daughter down right now-"

of the stairs, they ran into Valda, who had returned for her wallet.

Seeing Byron carrying Maeve,

Byron shot her a cold, piercing look. "Move." His voice was firm and commanding

Terrified of Scott's wrath, Valda didn't step aside. Instead, she chased after Byron as he carried Maeve out of the building. "You can't just take my daughter! She's already agreed to divorce you! If you keep this up, I'll call the police! "And let me tell you, Jeff is madly in love with Maeve and won't marry anyone else. You're just a driver-don't fool yourself into thinking you have a chance with her!" Byron cast a cold, sidelong glance at Valda, his gaze chilling the air around him.

Maeve, feeling the weight of his imposing presence, was struck by how a mere driver could exude such authority despite the. humiliation he'd endured.

As she thought back over the past few days with Byron, doubt crept in for the first time, 'Is he really just a driver? she wondered. GB