Maxwell Peary struggled to suppress his emotions, straining his ears for any sound on the other end of the phone. He hoped to hear Rabina Mitchell’s soft voice, but he didn’t. Instead, he clearly heard a man’s booming, cold voice.
"Then you don’t have a say in this."
"Let go!"
Nia Mitchell backed away, her voice trembling.
"Behave, and co with us."
"AH, LET GO! LET GO! LET GO!"
Nia Mitchell suddenly bit down hard on the arm of the man in black.
"AH, HOW DARE YOU BITE !"
"Let go, or you’re all dead!"
Nia Mitchell threatened loudly. Only then did she rember that her phone call hadn’t ended, so she quickly pressed the phone to her ear.
"Uncle, help !" Nia Mitchell shouted in panic.
Maxwell Peary paced nervously back and forth at the banquet. Upon hearing Nia Mitchell’s voice, he imdiately clenched his fists.
"Don’t be afraid. Go with them first."
Maxwell Peary’s mind raced. Anyone bold enough to kidnap soone in broad daylight in Capital Town must be a significant figure.Whoever was brazenly targeting Nia must know about her relationship with him.His reputation as Young Master Peary was widespread. He was confident that neither friend nor foe would dare to harm Nia.
Standing on Main Street, Nia Mitchell gradually cald down as she listened to the voice on the phone.
"Be a good girl. Go with them for now. I’ll co and take you ho soon."
If Nia continued to struggle, he feared her captors might harm her. He couldn’t bear the thought of Nia getting hurt in any way, not even just being knocked unconscious.
"Really?" Nia Mitchell bit her lip, standing there helplessly.
"Don’t you trust ?"
"I trust you."
After those three heavy words, Nia Mitchell hung up the phone.
She slowly lifted her head, the initial panic gone from her eyes.
"Fine, I’ll go with you."
She looked coldly at the two strangers in front of her and started towards the Rolls-Royce parked by the roadside.
「 」
Inside the Banquet Hall, Maxwell Peary hung up and imdiately dialed Alan Morgan.
"Boss? Looking for ? HICCUP!"
Alan Morgan’s voice was barely audible over the noisy music and thundering rhythm.
Damn it!
"Alan, where the hell are you?"
Alan Morgan took a deep drag from his cigarette, leaning back casually on the sofa. Several won, with gaudy makeup and revealing clothes, kept pouring him wine.
"I’m... I’m... I’m... definitely not at ho."
Alan Morgan thought for a long ti. His mind was a blank, and he wasn’t even sure where he was.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
Maxwell Peary abruptly ended the call in frustration. Damn it! For him to drop the ball at such a critical mont!
He quickly dialed Yancy Hastings’ number. At that mont, Yancy was standing silently before Evelyn Peary.
"Are you going to say sothing? What’s the point of just standing there blocking my way?" Evelyn Peary shot him a glare. Has military service made him stupid?
"Evelyn Peary, I found out sothing yesterday. I don’t know if you’re aware of it," Yancy Hastings said. He had remained silent for a long mont, ntally rehearsing his words several tis before finally speaking.
"How would I know if you don’t tell ?" Is this his opening line, or does he expect to guess? Is there a prize for guessing right?
Yancy Hastings choked and awkwardly cleared his throat.
"Well... Yesterday, my dad ntioned that the Peary Clan had hinted to our family that I should be the one to propose marriage."
Though he was a straightforward man, he had spent all his ti isolated in the Military Camp and had hardly interacted with won, so saying such things was quite embarrassing for him.
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