Chapter 981

Maeve Sterling didn't answer. Layne Everhart had no idea what was going through her mind. He spoke to her for a long time, but she offered zero reaction, leaving him no choice but to take the food back downstairs.

Maeve sat alone on the second-floor balcony. As evening fell, the lights in the courtyard flickered on. The approaching summer brought the loud chirping of crickets and the distant croaking of frogs, making the quiet night feel deceptively lively.

None of it could thaw Maeve's freezing heart. She even ordered the maids to bring up a bottle of wine, sitting on the balcony as she poured herself glass after glass.

Afraid of upsetting her, Layne didn't go upstairs to bother her. But as he stood in the courtyard and looked up at the balcony, he could clearly see Maeve smoking and drinking without even trying to hide it from him.

She looked incredibly experienced. Just how massive of a blow had she suffered to completely drop her innocent act in front of him?

Layne's initial urge to call out her sudden transformation vanished. If Maeve had been hiding her true self all along, there was no reason for her to suddenly start chain-smoking and downing wine right in front of him now. Even though he felt the thought was absurd, he brushed it off.

"Hey..."

Maeve spotted him and tossed something down in his direction. Layne's dark, predatory gaze gleamed in the night.

"What are you doing standing down there? Come up and have a drink with me."

Maeve's cheeks were flushed. It was the first time Layne had heard her call his name without that sweet, innocent tone she usually used.

Her face remained the same, but her voice was surprisingly bold. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but bathed in the moonlight, Maeve looked dangerously seductive.

Driven by an invisible force, Layne made his way upstairs. Maeve barely acknowledged his presence, simply sliding a wine glass toward him. The heavy scent of alcohol hit him instantly, and noticing the nearly empty bottle of red wine, he knew she was already wasted.

"Why the sudden urge to drink? I remember you used to say you never touched the stuff."

The good girl he had lived with for two years had completely changed overnight. Layne almost wondered if someone else had taken over Maeve's body.

"I drink because I want to. Is there some rule against it? Layne, it feels like we've never actually shared a drink together. Do you look down on me?"

She filled the wine glass in front of him to the brim and pushed it right to the edge of the table without hesitation.

Layne stared at the crimson liquid reflecting his handsome features, a wave of heartache washing over him as he looked at her.

"You've had too much. Let me take you to bed."

He vaguely remembered what

Alastair Sterling looked like, and the man didn't seem like the monster

Maeve made him out to be.

Why

would a father resort to such brutal physical punishments for a daughter so obedient?

This wasn't the dark ages. Did her family still run on archaic, twisted rules?

Maeve refused to budge.

"If you won't drink, I will. Leave me alone, Layne. It's still early, and the moon is gorgeous. I don't want to sleep. You're just trying to trick me."

She suddenly pointed a finger at

him, her smile utterly

intoxicating

Layne had never seen this

enchanting, drunken side of ber

before, and his heart skipped a beat.

"Maeve, you're drunk."

She was so drunk it made him desperately want to kiss her. She was as unpredictable as a siren, and Layne couldn't figure her out at all.

"I'm not drunk. I can keep going. Layne, do you like me? Why do you like me? Didn't you promise to take care of me forever, that you'd never change your mind for the rest of your life?"