Maxwell Peary scowled, looking at Rabina Mitchell’s pained expression. "Uncle? You’re being very impolite." Nia Mitchell angrily popped a piece of sweet and sour spare ribs into her mouth. Just moments before, he was acting all righteous, chiding her about her lack of manners from his high horse. And now look at him! He’s no different, not a shred of him practicing what he preached. Maxwell Peary felt it necessary to let Rabina Mitchell know his tastes. Nia Mitchell was slightly taken aback. Huh, so even people like Maxwell Peary have foods they don’t enjoy. Nia Mitchell chuckled to herself. Finally! She’d found a food Uncle Peary didn’t like. Last night, she had put so many chilies and cilantro in his food to tease him. She absolutely had to get her revenge for that. So, Nia Mitchell smiled, picked up another piece of sweet and sour spare ribs, and offered it to Maxwell Peary. She wore an expression as if she hadn’t heard a word he’d just said. She was being magnanimous and sharing with him; he couldn’t possibly refuse her kindness. Maxwell Peary rubbed his forehead. Alright, he was wrong. Although he was currently in an awkward and embarrassing predicament he couldn’t easily back down from, he still noticed Nia Mitchell frowning as she chewed on the sweet and sour spare ribs. Then she began to chew more slowly, looking very careful. Maxwell Peary put his arm around her waist, pulling her into his embrace, and reached out to gently cup her small chin. Nia Mitchell froze. Her entire body tensed, every cell on high alert. "Good girl, stick out your tongue." His tone, like he was coaxing a small child, made Nia Mitchell blush, and she felt as awkward and embarrassed as if she were sitting on pins and needles. Sticking out her tongue wasn’t a strenuous task; it could be done effortlessly. But his large, warm hand was on her waist, their bodies pressed close, and he was asking her to stick out her tongue. Alright, forgive her for letting her thoughts wander. Was Uncle Peary, in a fit of anger, planning to have his way with her right here, right now? "Um... Uncle, you just said you don’t like sweet and sour spare ribs, right? Oh, my... the sound... the sound traveled so slowly, I... I only just heard it." Bunny, does what CEO Peary says need buffering? What a novel excuse! Probably only Nia Mitchell could spin such nonsense. "Um... Uncle, if you don’t like it, then don’t eat it." Nia Mitchell stiffly placed the rib back into the food container. She wouldn’t dare pop the rib into her own mouth in front of this stern, poker-faced man. "Stick out your tongue. Let me see the burn from this morning." Nia Mitchell paused. So, COUGH, COUGH, that’s what the CEO meant! Without further hesitation, she obediently stuck out her little tongue. Newest update provıded by 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝✶𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖✶𝕟𝕖𝕥 Maxwell Peary studied it for a long time but didn’t see anything different. However, seeing her soft and delicate appearance made a warmth pool low in his belly. Nia Mitchell maintained the pose, her tongue out and her face stiff. How long was he going to examine it? Her... her saliva was about to drip! After silently mourning for herself for three seconds, Nia Mitchell slowly drew her little tongue back in, all the while scrutinizing Maxwell Peary’s expression. He remained expressionless from start to finish. Alright, there was no way she could decipher anything from Maxwell Peary’s face. She drew her little tongue back in and forced a smile, hoping he would be merciful and let her off the hook. When could she finally start filling her stomach? She’d been fine before, but eating those two or three pieces of Sweet and Sour Spareribs just now had made her even hungrier! Maxwell Peary finally replied. To Nia Mitchell, his words sounded like a declaration of amnesty. Finally, time to eat!