Taking care of myself like this, then anticipating the arrival of new life... such a feeling is indescribably wonderful.
"Mmm," Maxwell Peary responded, then swiftly opened the car door and took the driver’s seat.
"Rember, don’t eat anything cold," Maxwell Peary couldn’t help but nag. He didn’t want to receive a call from Frederick Goldsmith halfway through the banquet.
"I know!" Nia Mitchell looked flustered; he made it sound as if she were incredibly disobedient.
"Well, I’m hanging up now."
Embarrassed, she hung up the phone, took a deep breath, and then made a turn to drive towards the Villa in the hills.
The journey was uneventful. Upon arrival at the mountainside Villa, Nia Mitchell parked the car in the garage.
"Young Madam, you’re back?" Frederick Goldsmith was a bit taken aback; he had thought she wouldn’t be returning for dinner tonight.
"Yes," Nia Mitchell replied. She looked a bit tired and obediently sat in the Entrance Hall to change her shoes.
"I’d like to have boiled dumplings tonight."
"Certainly." After Frederick Goldsmith agreed, he imdiately went to the kitchen to give instructions.
Nia Mitchell, anwhile, went upstairs alone. The upper floor was empty, with nothing in sight.
I’d better take a bath first. Nia Mitchell felt a dull ache in her stomach and was a bit uncomfortable; her complexion wasn’t particularly rosy either.
After her bath, dinner was ready, and she happily went downstairs.
"Butler Goldsmith, I’d also like so fried dumplings." Once Nia Mitchell sat down, her appetite was thoroughly whetted.
"Certainly."
Although she dined alone, Nia Mitchell ate with enjoynt. Afterwards, she went upstairs and settled into her Bedroom.
Maxwell Peary, driving the Maybach, arrived at a Mansion in Capital Town, his expression still as impassive as an iceberg.
Upon entering the Manor, all eyes were drawn to his car.
ER...
The car was a luxury model, absolutely dazzling.
But...
Why did it look so terribly battered?
Everyone began to wonder who would dare arrive at a banquet in such a vehicle, clearly showing no regard for the hosts.
Of course, when everyone saw Maxwell Peary step out of the car, they all felt that he indeed possessed the audacity to do so.
Belinda Swan spotted Maxwell Peary from afar, and a smile lit up her face.
"Stop right there!"
Just as she was about to go over and greet him, she heard her father’s stern, authoritative voice from behind.
"Father!" Belinda Swan, unsure of his aning, froze and turned to look at him.
"Every ti you rush over to greet him, when has he ever given you a proper look? You’re always so spineless!"
Belinda Swan frowned; it had indeed been like that before.
Thinking of this, she gritted her teeth, steeled her resolve, and stood her ground, unmoving.
Maxwell Peary walked over and took a glass of red Wine from a passing Waiter’s tray.
"Uncle Swan."
His frigid expression made his features seem even more sharply defined. His thin lips parted slightly as he approached Mr. Swan.
"Now that you’re here, go with Belinda Swan and greet the guests," Mr. Swan said haughtily, as if ordering a subordinate.
Maxwell Peary exuded a chilling aura, like that of a sovereign, making him exceptionally conspicuous where he stood.
"Uncle Swan, what is the aning of this?"
Greet guests?This banquet isn’t being hosted by , so why should I be the one to greet them?
"My aning is simple. The invitations for today’s banquet were sent out months ago. It is your and Belinda Swan’s Engagent Banquet."
Upon hearing "Engagent Banquet," Belinda Swan’s smile widened, her heart brimming with joy.
Her father had only told her to dress nicely for today; she never imagined it would be for this...
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