Maxwell Peary’s brows furrowed even more, thoughtfully staring at this room.
"Since this is your design, how can you let the Hampton family stay in it?"
Maxwell Peary had no intention of sparing the Hampton family in the first place; reducing them to nothing was the lightest punishnt he could te out. It seed he needed to execute his plan promptly; otherwise, they might assu the renowned Young Master Peary was only capable of so little.
"I can’t help it; after all, this is soone else’s ho."
Her helpless remark, unbeknownst to her, was what made Maxwell Peary the owner of this villa. However, even after buying this villa, Maxwell Peary never lived in it. As for why?
Did that even need to be asked? This villa was the new ho Nia Mitchell and Hendry Hampton had prepared. Who knew how awkward he would feel living in it.
"Strange, I left my luggage here last ti. Why is it gone?"
Nia Mitchell frowned, searching everywhere. "I’ll go out and look for it."
Leaving the Main Bedroom, Nia searched high and low, combing through the entire villa, but still couldn’t find it.
She returned to the Main Bedroom, utterly dejected, and slumped against the doorfra.
"Uncle—"
Nia Mitchell pouted, looking listlessly at Maxwell Peary.
Hearing her voice, Maxwell Peary turned. Seeing her expression, he imdiately went to her side.
"What happened?"
He reached out, pulled her over, and steadied her.
"Look at you," he chided gently, "why are you always so improper? It’s one thing not to stand straight at ho, but to lean against the door even when you’re out?"
Nia Mitchell pouted. She was just in a bad mood, that’s all.
"What if this doorfra is dirty? Wouldn’t your clothes get soiled?" he added considerately, letting her lean against him.
"Uncle, I can’t find my luggage." She pouted, feeling deeply upset.
"Have you searched everywhere?"
Maxwell Peary’s brow furrowed. He could already guess that her luggage had likely been taken by Hendry Hampton. Mrs. Hampton was still in the hospital. They definitely couldn’t swallow this humiliation. They couldn’t touch Nia Mitchell, but as for the luggage she’d left here... one really couldn’t say what might have happened to it.
"I’ve looked everywhere, but I just can’t find it! It must have been Hendry Hampton who took my things. Do you think he might have thrown them away?"
The thought of this possibility made Nia Mitchell feel utterly distressed.
"He wouldn’t have. I’ll definitely help you find it." He patted Nia Mitchell’s head, took out his cell phone, and dialed Alan Morgan’s number.
「At that mont, in the Presidential Suite on the second floor of the Royal Dynasty Hotel.」
Alan Morgan was still in the large bed, Shirley Grant nestled in his arms, lingering before getting up, when his phone suddenly rang. He frowned. That ringtone was Maxwell Peary’s; he had to answer.
"Hello?"
A lazy voice ca through the phone. Maxwell Peary frowned but didn’t comnt on it.
"Help find out where Nia Mitchell’s luggage that was stored in the Royal View Villa went. I need to know as soon as possible."
Alan Morgan glanced at his computer, which had already been switched off. He sighed and looked down at the woman in his embrace. With all her makeup removed, Shirley Grant looked much younger than she did at the company. Her skin, so fair and delicate it seed it would break at a touch, made him adore her face. But now, with important matters to attend to, he had to get up.
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Seeing the love marks covering her neck, a smile touched his lips.
"You were too tired last night. You can sleep in a little longer."
Alan Morgan watched Shirley Grant’s slightly trembling eyelashes but didn’t expose the fact that she was awake and only pretending to be asleep.
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