Owen Lewis’s mouth twitched, and he finally sighed in resignation. How tough could the Boss’s marriage be? It hadn’t even blossod. For soone like him, even if he wanted hardships, they wouldn’t co his way. Tsk tsk, what should I do? I suddenly feel so much sympathy for him.
"Forget it, let’s not discuss this," Owen Lewis said. "Do I start taking over Alan Morgan’s work today?"
He always thought Alan Morgan’s work was the easiest among them all. Now, it was finally his turn. This way, he’d have plenty of ti to accompany... er, to woo his wife back.
"Mm, go to his office. Is the desk and chair I had soone prepare ready?" Maxwell Peary asked.
As soon as he finished speaking, there was a knock on the door.
Maxwell Peary unconsciously furrowed his brows and told the person knocking to co in.
Sophia Moore walked in holding a docunt. Her gaze was calm and composed as she elegantly glanced at Owen Lewis, who was sitting very casually on the sofa. Anyone who could be this casual in Maxwell Peary’s office must have an impressive status.
"CEO Peary, this docunt needs your signature. Also, a set of an office desk and chair has been delivered."
Sophia Moore didn’t know why a desk and chair set was suddenly delivered; none of the secretaries had ordered one. Since it was delivered to the CEO Office, it was ninety percent likely ordered by Maxwell Peary. So, she had volunteered to co here.
"Send it to the Special Assistant Office," Maxwell Peary instructed. "As for where to place it, just ask Nia Mitchell what she prefers."
Sophia Moore was taken aback; her hand paused as she was putting down the docunt. She never expected that desk and chair set to be for Nia Mitchell! At this thought, she suddenly felt a surge of wild jealousy. The quality of that desk and chair was probably comparable to the CEO’s!
"Yes."
After responding, Sophia Moore waited for Maxwell Peary to sign the docunt, then took it and left.
When Owen Lewis heard the na "Nia Mitchell," he felt that sothing was off. What was it exactly?
He pondered for a long ti before a sudden flash of insight allowed him to pinpoint what felt off.
The tone. Yes, that was it—the tone. When Maxwell Peary said the na "Nia Mitchell," his entire tone was different. Even his sharply defined face showed a hint of emotion.
"This Nia Mitchell... who is she?" Owen Lewis asked. The Special Assistant Office... isn’t that *his* office?
"Your sister-in-law," Maxwell Peary replied.
Maxwell Peary’s lips curled up slightly, his dark, lustrous eyes gleaming.
CRASH!
The sharp sound snapped Owen Lewis back to his senses. He stared at his empty right hand and then at the shards of glass on the floor. What did he just hear?
"Sis...sister-in-law?"
What sister-in-law?
"Mm, I’m married."
Maxwell Peary’s lips curled into a teasing smile as he intently watched the stunned Owen Lewis.
Holy shit!
Owen Lewis suddenly shot up from the sofa, stumbled back several steps, and stared at Maxwell Peary with a horrified expression. There had to be sothing wrong with his ears, or he’d completely misunderstood. The sister-in-law Maxwell Peary ntioned... did he an *his* wife? Maxwell Peary was married? Damn it! Impossible.
"Boss, this kind of joke isn’t funny at all. You’d better not make it."
But was Maxwell Peary the type to make jokes?
"We already got the marriage certificate."
Sure enough, Maxwell Peary dropped another bombshell. He said she was his sister-in-law, and he ant it: not a girlfriend, but his legitimate wife.
Dark lines seed to form on Owen Lewis’s forehead; his mouth twitched, his temples throbbed, and he didn’t even know where to put his hands.
"Boss, don’t scare ! I’ve been timid since I was a kid..."
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