This night was bound to be anything but quiet.
「Madgar Pavilion—」
Evelyn Peary hurried from her Office Room and soon appeared in Madgar Pavilion’s most luxurious private booth.
As she opened the door, Yancy Hastings sat straight-backed before her, still in his imposing military uniform.
Apart from the cup of tea before him, there were several boxes placed on the table.
"What are you doing?"
Evelyn Peary looked at him in surprise, unable to comprehend why he was there.
Was he here to dine? If so, then why had he bothered calling her over?
Seeing her enter, Yancy Hastings stood up and gestured towards the chair next to him, indicating for her to sit too.
"If you’ve got sothing to say, say it fast. I’m very busy."
Seeing his serious deanor, Evelyn Peary thought for a mont, then went over and took a seat.
"Go on."
As Yancy Hastings sat down, his broad back ramrod straight, his ideal V-shaped athletic physique further accentuated his vibrant energy.
"Take a look at these items."
With that, he slid several boxes from his side to in front of Evelyn Peary.
She furrowed her delicate brows, glancing at Yancy Hastings with a puzzled look. His expression gave away nothing, leaving her no choice but to open the boxes with curiosity.
Um, necklaces, earrings, rings, bracelets...
"What’s this?"
She found it quite odd. Yancy Hastings was undeniably a strong, dominant man. Why would he want her to look at these pieces of jewelry?
"Today and tomorrow are auspicious days. I thought I’d give you these pieces of jewelry first. Tomorrow, my father and I will personally visit your ancestral ho to propose."
PFFT—
Evelyn Peary was relieved she hadn’t been sipping tea, or she surely would have spat it all over him.
He wanted her to look at so jewelry, and now he was proposing marriage? No, that wasn’t it. More accurately, was he out of his mind, proposing to *her* of all people?
"Yancy Hastings, don’t try to impose your suicidal views on marriage on . Who said I’m going to marry you?"
Evelyn Peary abruptly stood up. When it ca to her marriage, she was determined to have a say.
anwhile, Yancy Hastings sat there, his face expressionless, looking up at the visibly agitated Evelyn Peary.
"This was your father’s idea, and of course, my father’s as well."
With both sets of parents agreeing, wasn’t that reason enough?
Evelyn Peary just wanted to look up to the sky and scream, *Damn it!*
"There’s no love between us! At best, we have a friendship that’s grown distant for over a decade, alright?"
She’s supposed to marry him? Could he spare her the agony?
"Feelings can be cultivated over ti. At least I don’t dislike you. I’ve given so thought to what you said last ti. I can’t stand crude won, nor can I tolerate those so-called ’elite young ladies’ who are all cut from the sa mold. You, however, are just right."
If he was ever to marry anyone, Evelyn Peary would et all the criteria he had defined for a spouse. Plus, both families had a long-standing friendship and were interested in joining through marriage. Going along with the elders’ wishes and settling down seed like a good idea.
However, this was only what Yancy Hastings, the quintessential chauvinist, thought.
"I won’t do it. I’m telling you, Yancy Hastings, don’t you dare propose! I have the final say in my marriage. I would never agree. You would only be making yourself unhappy. If I were to make a big scene, your all-important pride would be utterly trampled!"
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