Nia Mitchell was led forward by Maxwell Peary, continuously looking back at Robert Perez, who remained kneeling in place.
"Uncle, what on earth is going on?"
Nia blinked, rather surprised. Although she was sowhat indignant about the incident today, she now looked at Robert Perez kneeling there. For so reason, she suddenly felt sorry for the man.
"It’s nothing; you don’t need to worry about it."
Maxwell Peary furrowed his brow and strode forward. He was considering whether he should assign Nia a personal bodyguard. Only then could he be at ease.
"Nia, how did you encounter Robert Perez?"
Maxwell Peary suddenly thought of a problem. If this encounter was intentional, the asures he would take wouldn’t be so simple.
"I was standing there waiting for you when he just happened to pass by."
Seeing Robert Perez in such a dejected state, she didn’t recognize him for a mont.
"Uncle, why did he end up like that?"
What Nia Mitchell really wanted to ask was why the Perez Family was bankrupt, and why Victoria Perez had disappeared. But she didn’t dare to ask, fearing the CEO might think she didn’t trust him.
"It’s just a business failure, very normal."
Maxwell Peary opened the car door for her to sit in the passenger seat, then circled around to the driver’s seat.
"Don’t trouble your head with such things, understand?"
Maxwell Peary reached out to pat her head, his words laced with affection.
Nia Mitchell nodded with a smile.
Maxwell Peary drove so smoothly that by the ti they returned to the Royal Bay Villa, Nia Mitchell had already fallen asleep.
Seeing her peaceful, sleeping form, Maxwell Peary felt his heart lt in an instant. What a harmonious scene. He had never imagined such a mont could be so sweet.
"Nia? We’re ho."
Maxwell Peary moved closer, whispering softly into her ear. Every word carried a warm breath that tickled her small ears, making the sleeping Nia Mitchell feel itchy and uncomfortable. Then...
SMACK!
A slap landed sharply.
The sound shattered the warm scene and Maxwell Peary’s montarily lted heart. Damn it, she really hit hard.
Maxwell Peary rubbed his cheek and grumpily got out of the car. He then opened the passenger door and carefully lifted her out.
Perhaps she was extra tired from their prolonged supermarket trip that day; Nia Mitchell slept so soundly she didn’t even notice being carried into the house.
"Young Master?"
Frederick Goldsmith approached, montarily stunned by the scene. He was still getting used to these monts. My goodness, he had never seen the Young Master so tender. He increasingly felt that the Young Master was becoming more like an ordinary person, which was just perfect.
"Hush!"
Maxwell Peary signaled to Frederick Goldsmith not to speak. Although he had wanted to wake her just monts ago, now he didn’t want her to be disturbed.
"Yes, sir."
Frederick Goldsmith, the butler, softly acknowledged and turned to leave the Living Room.
For the first ti, Maxwell Peary entered the Villa without removing his shoes, carrying her directly into the upstairs Main Bedroom.
Once laid on the soft, large bed, Nia Mitchell instinctively rolled over, tucking the gray blanket between her legs.
Maxwell Peary’s throat tightened; blood instantly surged to a certain part of his body. His mouth went dry!
"Sleep properly!"
Maxwell Peary irritably reached out and slapped the little bottom of a certain little Rabina Mitchell.
Nia Mitchell, feeling the sting on her bottom, swatted her hand vaguely behind her and rubbed the sore spot. She irritably shifted position and continued to snore.
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