Chapter 980

Layne spoke with absolute, unwavering seriousness. Maeve looked at him evenly, letting out a soft, flat sigh. Her voice was entirely devoid of emotion.

"I understand. I won't make jokes like that again. Layne, I'm feeling completely drained. Do you mind if I just go to sleep early today?"

She had zero energy left to argue about a damn housekeeper. Her mind was entirely consumed by the devastating reality of Quinton and Delilah.

When exactly did their affair start? Maeve obsessively replayed her memories. When she was still with Quinton, Delilah had practically been a third wheel in their relationship.

She never in a million years imagined Quinton would actually look twice at Delilah. That was her best friend. How could Delilah do something so viciously cruel?

She had shared every intimate detail of her nights with Quinton with Delilah. She had told her exactly how it felt to kiss him, how his hands felt on her skin. Didn't Delilah feel utterly sick to her stomach taking her leftovers?

Layne, meanwhile, still believed Maeve's icy withdrawal was a result of her psychological trauma. He completely understood why the encounter downstairs had left her emotionally exhausted.

"This is going to be our bedroom from now on. If you need anything, just call me. Dinner will be ready soon. Do you want to rest a bit and come down to eat, or

should I bring a tray up for you?"

Maeve felt physically nauseous at the thought of eating. But she also couldn't risk fueling Layne's suspicions by acting too bratty. She absolutely refused to go downstairs and look at Mrs. Shannon's smug face. Every time she saw the old woman, she was violently reminded of her own spectacular failure.

It was a suffocating wave of despair. If she had her way, Mrs. Shannon would be lying in an ICU bed on life support, permanently erased from her life.

"Could you bring it up? I'd rather just eat in bed."

She looked so incredibly fragile, as if the trauma had completely hollowed her out. Layne obliged without argument and headed downstairs.

Left alone in the quiet room, Maeve's head throbbed. Memories of Quinton flashed relentlessly in her mind. Compared to Layne, Quinton possessed that magnetic, arrogant bad boy charm typical of spoiled billionaire heirs.

He carried himself with a dangerous, untouchable edge—a stark contrast to Layne's perpetual, stifling gentlemanly perfection. And like most women, Maeve was utterly addicted to that intoxicating, destructive energy.

Layne bored her to tears. Even after playing house with him for two years, sharing a bed, and acting like a devoted wife, she felt absolutely nothing for him.

Obviously, she would never let him figure that out. She needed to invent a bulletproof excuse to visit the Sterling family tomorrow and get to the bottom of this nightmare.

As for Layne, she couldn't care less about him anymore. She had honestly believed she was a year away from finishing this miserable assignment.

Once free, she was going to marry Quinton. But with this catastrophic betrayal blowing up in her face, staying here felt entirely pointless. If she couldn't have Quinton, what the hell was the point of pretending to love Layne Everhart?

Downstairs, Layne realized no amount of comforting words could break through Maeve's depressive state, so he quietly headed for the kitchen.

Mrs. Shannon spoke up cautiously. "Ms. Sterling looked incredibly disturbed when she walked in. She was completely miserable. Was it... because of me?"

Layne shook his head. "I know you're just looking out for me, Mrs. Shannon. But it really wasn't about you. Let me fix her a plate to take upstairs."

Maeve stared at the food Layne brought her, entirely devoid of an appetite. She took a few symbolic bites just to appease him before practically begging him to leave her alone.

"I'm still adjusting to being in a new place. Do you mind if I just sleep alone tonight?"

Assuming she was still deeply shaken by her traumatic memories, Layne completely understood her need for space.

"My bedroom is right next door. Call

me if you need anything. Since you don't know the layout of the house

yet don't go wandering around,

the dark If you want a tour tomorrow, just tell me and I'lbshow you around."