At noon, Nia Mitchell didn’t know when Maxwell Peary had finished lunch. All she knew was that she had taken a nap, and by the ti she woke up, it was already half-past three, causing her to fall further behind schedule.
Therefore, Nia Mitchell was thoroughly sulky. After waking up, she didn’t go out, but just sat on the big bed in the Waiting Room, pouting and feeling grumpy.
Maxwell Peary had been working non-stop, assuming that if Nia Mitchell woke up, she would co out on her own.
By the ti he realized it was getting late, and that Nia Mitchell should have co out long before, it was already six in the evening.
At this ti, the MC Group was deserted, with not even a single soul present except for Maxwell Peary.
"Nia Mitchell?"
Maxwell Peary, frowning in confusion, directly opened the Grand Gate to the Waiting Room.
Inside the Waiting Room, the lights were off. In the dimness, he could vaguely make out Nia Mitchell, who had fallen asleep sitting and leaning against the wall.
This... Maxwell Peary shook his head and turned on the lights in the Waiting Room.
"MMM..." The glaring light pierced through her closed eyelids, and Nia Mitchell, displeased, raised a hand to shield her eyes.
"Stop sleeping. Look at yourself, you’re turning into a little piggy."
Maxwell Peary walked to the bedside and gently touched her cheek.
"Huh? What ti is it?"
Nia Mitchell, still fuzzy from sleep, put down her little claw and opened her eyes to look at Maxwell.
Perhaps it was because she was against the light; the CEO’s face was a bit blurry, but he was irresistibly handso.
Nia Mitchell was sowhat enchanted. She reached out, hooked her arms around his neck, and pulled him closer.
"Uncle Peary, aren’t you working? Why are you here?"
She hadn’t checked the ti yet and was a bit disoriented.
Maxwell Peary, amused, gently tapped her nose, his face full of affection.
"It’s already past six."
Work? It was already far beyond working hours.
If he continued to work, he’d really be worked to death.
Hearing this, Nia Mitchell’s eyes widened in disbelief. She imdiately let go of his neck and reached for her phone.
GASP! It really was past six! She clearly rembered coming to the MC Group to work in the afternoon.
So much for that.
All the servants in the Villa probably thought she was working incredibly hard. Little did they know, their Young Mistress had rely taken a nap in the CEO’s Waiting Room.
Oh my god.
She felt utterly dismayed.
"You didn’t wake up!"
Nia Mitchell couldn’t resist lightly thumping his chest again. They had just discussed this very thing in the morning, yet he had taken no action at all in the afternoon!
How detestable!
"Do you think I need my wife to go out and work so hard?"
Maxwell Peary asked her this question while looking into her eyes.
The crucial point was, her job was still under his authority.
"What? Don’t tell you also have those male chauvinistic ideas that won should just stay at ho, serve their husbands and raise children, and eventually beco frumpy housewives?"
Nia Mitchell’s face imdiately clouded over with displeasure. Humph! I knew it. The CEO is definitely a male chauvinist!
Maxwell Peary’s mouth twitched. Does Rabina Mitchell’s imagination know no bounds?
"What I an is, all my money is yours. Do you really need to work just to draw a salary from ?"
Maxwell Peary looked at her seriously and explained carefully.
When did he ever beco a male chauvinist?
If anyone’s a male chauvinist, it’s Yancy Hastings, alright?
He was just overly concerned about her, that’s all.
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