A few days after Nia Mitchell married Maxwell Peary, she finally experienced a sense of inferiority.
So, she opened Maxwell’s chat window and sent him a ssage.
"Am I not good enough for you?"
A man sitting in the Office Room with his legs crossed was waiting for a reply from his Rabina.
But a minute passed...
Ten minutes passed...
Damnit, was Rabina not planning on responding?
Annoyed, Maxwell reached out to close the chat window. He was preparing to go out and investigate what on earth that damn Rabina was doing, as she was completely ignoring him.
Just as he was about to close the window, a new ssage popped up.
See? He knew it, Nia wouldn’t ignore him.
But what on earth did she an by her reply?
What did she an, she wasn’t good enough for him?
Had this silly girl’s only sane nerve gotten crossed?
"Who said you’re not good enough for ?"
Upon seeing Maxwell’s reply, Nia Mitchell continued to pout; he hadn’t really answered her.
"No one has to say it. Just thinking about it makes it pretty obvious."
She was exceedingly ordinary, yet he was superior to thousands.
If they were in ancient tis, he would be the emperor, and she a commoner.
He was far beyond her reach, the sunlight she could never touch.
"You are my wife."
Six simple words that defined her current identity and status. Even if she wasn’t good enough in the past, she was now.
Strangely enough, she recognized this sort of ssy cliché.
"You are my husband."
Nia Mitchell replied with a laugh, the smile on her face growing brighter and brighter. She was enveloped in happiness.
Oh, what should she do?
She seed to be falling more and more in love with this kind of life, and more and more in love with that uncle who was always managing her.
Maxwell Peary was in high spirits; he liked this sentence. Yes, yes, he was hers.
He desperately wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless right now. What was he to do?
BEEP—BEEP—BEEP—
The landline on Nia Mitchell’s desk rang again. The entire Office Room was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.
Everyone pricked up their ears, as if by doing so they could figure out who was making the call.
Nia Mitchell’s mouth twitched. CEO, it can’t be you again, can it? she silently grumbled.
"Hello?"
"A cup of coffee."
"But you..."
BEEP—BEEP—BEEP—
Damn it, he’d hung up.
Nia Mitchell slamd down the phone, grinding her teeth. He didn’t even let her finish speaking!
She fud, grinding her teeth. How long had it been since she’d just delivered his coffee? He actually wanted another cup already.
She was here to work, not to be his personal barista. Besides, wasn’t coffee usually Phoebe Walker’s responsibility?
Hmph! I’m going on strike. He can just go ask Phoebe Walker!
So, Nia Mitchell opened her browser, clicked on Google, and typed in "negative effects of frequent coffee consumption in n."
She absolutely had to tell him that no matter what it was, consuming too much of anything was bad.
Wow, so many results.
Increased risk of organ disease, inducent of osteoporosis, increased stomach acid, reduced sperm count...
Er... Nia’s face instantly turned bright red. Reduced sperm count, huh...
Nia Mitchell didn’t make coffee. Ignoring the many curious gazes from the Secretary Departnt, she headed straight into Maxwell’s Office Room.
KNOCK—KNOCK—KNOCK—
Maxwell raised an eyebrow. Could Nia Mitchell make coffee that fast?
This girl is teachable. He’d have to praise her properly later.
"Co in."
Even his tone of voice carried an irrepressible joy.
After Maxwell spoke, he quickly lowered his head, continuing to frown slightly as the pen in his hand moved ceaselessly across the docunt before him.
User Comments
0 comments from readers