Nia Mitchell was taken aback. She bit her lip and stood up rapidly.
"You really regret it, I knew it, I knew it..."
She had nothing and had even been abandoned at her engagent ceremony. The sha was unspeakable.
From the attitudes of others, she had gathered to so extent that Maxwell Peary was a prodigy, an individual who far exceeded even Hendry Hampton.
She couldn’t even aspire to Hendry Hampton’s level; how could she possibly reach for soone as high-standing as Maxwell Peary?
Maxwell Peary hadn’t anticipated such a reaction from Nia Mitchell to his words. He imdiately stood up and grasped her hand.
"I don’t regret anything!"
Maxwell Peary raised his voice. Those five short words cald Nia Mitchell down sowhat.
"Nia Mitchell, I am trying my best to be a qualified husband, but are you prepared to spend your life with ?"
After saying this, Maxwell Peary returned to the kitchen. In the spacious Dining Hall, only Nia Mitchell remained seated.
The lamp before her cast a warm, yellow glow. A vase of lilies sat on the simple, black dining table, looking exquisitely beautiful.
Nia Mitchell stared blankly into the distance, Maxwell Peary’s words echoing in her mind.
From the mont she had t Maxwell Peary, he had taken exceptional care of her, his concern ticulous and faultless.
And she? She’d ended up in the police station needing him to bail her out, disobeyed him by leaving on her own, and now she was being so distant and formal with him. No wonder he was angry.
Nia Mitchell sat there thinking for a long ti before finally standing up and walking towards the kitchen.
"Uncle Peary..."
She leaned against the doorfra, blinking her eyes pitifully as she muttered his na softly.
Maxwell Peary tensed at her call. He turned his head to look at her adorably pitiful expression, and a wave of heat washed over him.
"Hm?"
His prominent Adam’s apple bobbed. A low, husky voice rumbled from deep within him as Maxwell Peary tried to suppress his emotions, his face taut as he focused on stir-frying the Scrambled Eggs with Tomatoes.
Seeing that Maxwell Peary only gave her a cursory glance, Nia Mitchell stuck out her tongue and walked over to his side.
"Max..."
Before she could finish, Maxwell Peary interrupted her.
"Stand aside, the oil might splatter."
Protected behind Maxwell Peary, just that one sentence suddenly moved her.
"Uncle Peary!"
Nia Mitchell reached out and wrapped her arms around Maxwell Peary’s strong, toned waist.
"I don’t want a divorce! Please, give another chance, okay? I’ll try my best to be a good wife to you."
Maxwell Peary stood there expressionlessly, his back rigid. He listened to Nia Mitchell’s words and didn’t respond for a long ti.
Ti seed to freeze. The air was filled with the sweet aroma of Scrambled Eggs with Tomatoes. Maxwell Peary paused for a mont before continuing to stir-fry.
Seeing his lack of reaction, Nia Mitchell felt a pang of disappointnt.
"Uncle Peary... Uncle Peary... Uncle Peary..."
Nia Mitchell stamped her foot, clinging to his waist and refusing to let go, continuously rubbing her head against his back.
"Nia Mitchell! Let go!"
Maxwell Peary’s expression darkened. His chiseled profile looked even more severe, and an icy aura emanated from him.
A hush fell over the room. The atmosphere was somber, laced with an unspoken threat.
"I’m sorry..."
Terrified, Nia Mitchell let go, her head hanging low. She slowly walked out of the kitchen.
When she reached the Living Room, she picked up her bag and turned to leave.
"Nia Mitchell, you win."
Suddenly, Maxwell Peary threw down the spatula, rushed out of the kitchen, and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist.
Their heated bodies pressed tightly together. Nia Mitchell was startled and tried to push him away.
"You’re the one who provoked !"
Seeing her resist, the last thread of control in Maxwell Peary’s mind SNAPPED. He lowered his head and kissed her tempting, rosy lips.
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