Feeling unsatisfied as he released her, Maxwell Peary looked at her blushing face and couldn’t help but declare domineeringly, "Nia Mitchell, don’t you even think about escaping in this lifetime." Nia Mitchell pursed her swollen lips, her tiny eyes looking at the blooming flowers on the side. This little expression is clearly telling him that she’s sulking. Already accustomed to giving orders, Maxwell Peary could never stand it when Rabina Mitchell ignored him. Content orıginally comes from 𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹✶𝗳𝗶𝗿𝗲✶𝗻𝗲𝘁 He said a lot, yet she simply responded with silence. "What do you expect me to say in response?" Nia Mitchell glared at him, puffing angrily. He kissed when he wanted to kiss and did as he pleased. He had never sought her opinion before. His talk of not running away made her feel like a fugitive. Even though Maxwell Peary often failed to understand women’s thinking, he could feel that something was off with her. Nia Mitchell, without denying it, just stood there. The atmosphere in the small garden immediately became tense. What had started as sweet was now a bit more murderous, with Maxwell Peary continually exuding a cold aura. When Butler Frederick Goldsmith arrived in the small garden, he sensed that something was off. Weren’t they still fine in the living room just a while ago? Eating strawberries together, right? Sharing them, weren’t they? Why are they acting like little kids, turning against each other so instantly? "Young Master, Young Mistress, dinner is ready." Frederick, bracing himself against the chilly air that Maxwell Peary was giving off, walked over and carefully spoke. Then he just stood there, waiting for the unpredictable storm. "We heard you; we’ll be right over." Nia Mitchell smiled at the butler and said sweetly, then turned to look at Maxwell Peary. Upon hearing Nia’s words, Butler Frederick nodded and left, giving the two some space. "Let’s go, let’s eat." As Nia Mitchell’s soft voice was heard, Maxwell Peary, still with a tense face, said nothing, turned, and left first. Watching his departing figure, Nia Mitchell lowered her head dejectedly and followed his steps. Nia Mitchell sat quietly on a chair, delicately savoring the golden fried dumplings. But Maxwell Peary didn’t join her. In front of him was a plate of Italian Pasta and a small bowl of Salmon Vegetable Soup. HMPH! Even their meals differ now. How annoying! Nia Mitchell was so angry she wanted to grab Maxwell Peary and give him a good beating, but she knew she was no match for him. Watching Maxwell Peary quickly finish a few bites before standing up and leaving the dining hall, Nia Mitchell forcefully jabbed a golden fried dumpling with her chopsticks. She was so irritated her teeth itched. Still, these fried dumplings are delicious; I won’t deprive my stomach because of him. Seeing that Young Master Peary only ate a bit before heading upstairs, Butler Frederick realized they were giving each other the silent treatment. Otherwise, why wouldn’t they speak a single word to each other during dinner? Moreover, Young Master Peary had clearly been planning to have fried dumplings with the Young Mistress, but he suddenly switched to Western Restaurant meals. "Young Mistress, did you two have an argument?" Frederick came over and asked quietly. Nia turned to look at the butler, her lips pouting pitifully. "I don’t have the energy to argue with him. Clearly, he’s the one at fault!" Nia Mitchell kept poking a dumpling in her bowl, feeling incredibly wronged. "Young Mistress, Young Master Peary has always been . Over the years, you are the only girl he has treated in this special manner. Take the meals of the last few days, for example. Young Master Peary has never touched Chinese Cuisine and has always exclusively eaten Western Restaurant meals."