Nia Mitchell found it hard to believe what the butler had said. That Maxwell Peary never eats Chinese Cuisine?
But these past few days, he seed to enjoy eating it.
He even fought her for it.
Hmph!
"Young Madam, Young Master has never lived with a lady before. Please be patient with him," the butler earnestly advised her, hoping that the two would get along.
Nia Mitchell turned back to her plate of fried dumplings.
"I understand."
As she finished her words, Nia Mitchell put down her chopsticks and left the Dining Hall.
「Study Room」
Maxwell Peary, with his brows furrowed, sat in his chair, smoking and contemplating the events of recent days.
Was it possible that he and Nia Mitchell were truly incompatible? So, the two of them...
Surrounded by a cloud of smoke, his white shirt seed to fade in and out of view, his hand holding a cigarette revealing the clear outline of each knuckle.
As Nia Mitchell walked into the study room, the spectacle that greeted her was just that.
"COUGH, COUGH..."
Nia Mitchell pinched her nose, her face full of disgust.
"Uncle, you said you wouldn’t smoke." Ugh, the smoke is choking.
Seeing her enter, Maxwell Peary’s first reaction was to imdiately put out his cigarette.
Recalling Nia Mitchell’s behavior today, his action to snuff the cigarette paused.
"Didn’t you say it was okay if I smoked occasionally?"
Saying this, he took another deep puff in front of Nia Mitchell and slowly exhaled.
His appearance, full of repressed desires, was almost irresistibly attractive.
Nia Mitchell was also sowhat taken aback. Although she knew of Maxwell Peary’s good looks, she had never seen him smoking before.
"Are you upset?"
Nia Mitchell walked in front of him, intending to snatch away his cigarette and put it out, but didn’t dare to.
After all, he was looking quite terrifying with that gloomy face on.
"Upset?"
Maxwell Peary was sowhat displeased to be described by such a word. Only Nia Mitchell and toddlers would resort to such behavior.
She actually said that he, the esteed Young Master Peary, who reigns supre in both Mafia and Bussiness World, was having a tantrum.
Ridiculous!
"Yes, you are throwing a tantrum."
Nia Mitchell scrunched her nose; the closer she got to him, the stronger the sll of smoke.
"What are you doing here?"
Maxwell Peary did not want to argue with her about whether he was throwing a tantrum or not.
Nia Mitchell pouted her lips and stopped pinching her nose.
"You haven’t had a proper al."
She ca to call him to have so more to eat, else he would be hungry.
Feeling hungry at night was very uncomfortable; she knew it very well.
"I’m full. Leave."
He spoke coldly and continued to smoke.
He had never spoken so coldly to her before; Nia Mitchell’s hand, hanging down at her side, clenched into a fist.
"Oh."
After leaving the study room, Nia Mitchell sat in the Dining Hall, slumped over the table, with no appetite left to eat.
"Young Madam?"
The butler walked up to her, carrying freshly made hot fried dumplings.
Nia Mitchell glanced at them and put down her chopsticks.
"I’m also full."
Having said that, Nia Mitchell left the Dining Hall alone and went to the Living Room.
In the empty Grand Villa, Nia Mitchell sat cross-legged on the sofa, visibly discontented.
Just then, the doorbell of the Villa rang; soone was knocking on the door.
"I’ll get it!"
Nia Mitchell shouted. She was in the Living Room and closest to the door, so it would be most efficient if she went.
After quickly putting on her slippers, she ran to open the door.
"Erm, sister-in-law?"
Alan Morgan, seeing the person who opened the door, faltered. Why was it his sister-in-law opening the door? He found it odd.
"Special Assistant Alan? Why have you co over at such a late hour?"
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