Maxwell Peary did not lose his temper, letting her crow triumphantly. "Uncle, look how cute and kind I am. I’ll give you one last treat." She laughed happily. From now on, she’d call him Uncle and not do as he wished. She called him in a soft, sweet voice, sticking out her little tongue triumphantly. "Alright, hurry up and list them. Every name I’ve ever called you; don’t miss a single one!" He laughed meaningfully. This Rabina Mitchell was so kind; perhaps he should be a bit kinder too? "Okay, Uncle, you’ve called me Nia." Maxwell Peary nodded. Her memory wasn’t bad. Seeing her pause, Maxwell Peary looked at her with a smile. Nia Mitchell paused for a moment. That was all, wasn’t it? Had he called her anything else? She looked confused and innocent. She only remembered these. Maxwell Peary had a playful look on his face as he leaned close to her small ear and whispered. "Baby, did you forget? At night, in bed, I also call you my little enchantress." Nia Mitchell’s face flushed so red it couldn’t get any redder, and her mind was filled with ’little enchantress, little enchantress, little enchantress’. And so, try as she might, she just couldn’t shake those mortifying scenes from her mind. "You!" ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭•𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚•𝕟𝕖𝕥 Nia Mitchell bit her lip and glared at Maxwell Peary. Shameless! "What? You really forgot?" Maxwell Peary reached out and straightened Nia Mitchell’s clothes. From his angle, his eyes were filled with the sight of bluish-purple love bites. With her soft, fragrant body in his arms, he feared he’d lose control again and simply devour her. "I..." Nia Mitchell was so angry she was about to retort, but then a thought struck her: What if she simply didn’t acknowledge that nickname? She could just ’forget’ it. What could he do then? She forced a defiant, fake smile. You can’t awaken the memory of someone pretending to have amnesia. Uncle Peary, hahaha, you’re going to be frustrated now! "I don’t mind helping you remember." How could Maxwell Peary not win against this Rabina Mitchell? As he finished speaking, he picked the girl up, intending to head towards the waiting room. "Don’t! I was wrong, I was wrong, I was wrong!!!" Nia Mitchell yelled, her voice right by Maxwell Peary’s ear, deafeningly loud, each word drilling straight into his skull. Maxwell Peary stopped. His large hands were still supporting Nia Mitchell’s small bottom, holding her face-to-face. Fearing she might fall, Nia Mitchell had no choice but to clamp her legs around the man’s strong waist and wrap her arms around his neck. Her head drooped, her expression utterly woeful. "So, have you remembered now?" Nia Mitchell silently gritted her teeth. Hmph, give him an inch, and he’ll take a mile! She answered obediently, an innocent look on her face. "Then what are you going to call me from now on?" He had a threatening expression on his face, and Nia Mitchell pouted. "AAAAHHHH, you’re bullying me, you’re threatening me, you don’t like me anymore!" Nia Mitchell wailed, her little feet kicking back and forth, her body squirming restlessly in his arms. Maxwell Peary was only using his hands to support her bottom and keep her steady, so he naturally couldn’t handle her squirming about like that. "Stop moving around!" Maxwell Peary forcefully lifted her a bit higher, his face stern. "You were the one who pushed for this pinky-promise agreement with me, like forcing a duck onto a perch. So, now that you’ve lost, you want to go back on your word, is that it?"