Can we even have a proper conversation anymore? Nia Mitchell looked at the text message on her phone. It was a complete mess; she couldn’t understand it at all. "I’m going out soon. If you see me, can we just act like strangers?" This had to be agreed upon; otherwise, she was genuinely planning to hide here until the party ended. Maxwell Peary considered it. Better coax her out, or it’ll really start to stink in there. Nia Mitchell stood up from the toilet, squeezing her small feet into her high heels. This was the first time she had ever defeated the CEO. She felt like crying. Phoebe Walker stared at the new evening gown she had bought. It wasn’t custom-made, nor was it as beautiful as her previous one. Looking at it made her fume. HMPH! Shirley Grant, just you wait. I have plenty of opportunities to destroy you. So what if Alan Morgan protects you? HUH, you’ve just been slept with by someone. At best, you can only be a mistress. Just then, Liam Walker knocked on the door and walked in. "Phoebe, why haven’t you changed yet? Young Master Peary is here." Phoebe Walker had been grumbling incessantly, a ball of fury as she stared at the dress. When she heard Liam Walker’s words, she couldn’t process them immediately. She stood stunned for a full five seconds before it registered. "Dad, you mean Young Master Peary? Our CEO?" Phoebe Walker couldn’t believe her ears. Why would Maxwell Peary come to her birthday party? She had sent him an invitation previously, merely out of courtesy and to make an impression on him. But... the CEO had actually come! "Yes, that’s right! It’s Maxwell Peary, the CEO of MC Group. Hurry and get dressed." ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡•𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚⚫𝙣𝙚𝙩 After saying this, Liam Walker immediately left. Phoebe Walker clutched the newly bought evening gown, still reeling. The CEO had actually come! Soon, her name, Phoebe Walker, would be linked with Maxwell Peary’s! Wonderful! With her family background, becoming Mrs. Peary was only a matter of time. At this thought, her cheeks flushed, and she quickly changed her clothes. After changing, she began to touch up her makeup. Tonight, she absolutely had to dazzle Maxwell Peary. With this determination, Phoebe Walker finally reappeared at the banquet. She wore a pale purple dress, complemented by her chestnut-colored, voluminous wavy hair. Her curvaceous figure accentuated her allure. Phoebe Walker glided over elegantly. From a distance, she spotted Maxwell Peary on the sofa. He held a glass of red wine in his left hand, swirling it idly, while his right hand held his phone. "Miss Walker, happy birthday." When the other young socialites saw Phoebe Walker reappear, they began to gather around, offering toasts and pleasantries. Phoebe Walker frowned slightly but maintained her smile as she drank with everyone. After a brief chat, she once again made her way toward Maxwell Peary. However, no sooner did one group leave than another approached. "Phoebe, happy birthday." Lightly clinking glasses, Phoebe Walker took another small sip of red wine. Twenty minutes had passed by the time Phoebe finally neared Maxwell Peary. And Maxwell Peary had been staring at his phone for over ten minutes now. Why hasn’t Rabina Mitchell replied to his text? Why hasn’t Rabina Mitchell appeared in his line of sight yet? Maxwell Peary’s brow furrowed, and his patience quickly wore thin. Did she really think he wouldn’t dare go into the restroom to drag her out? HUH, he had plenty of ways to force her out without even going in. Maxwell Peary shot to his feet, set down the empty high-stemmed wine glass, and turned, preparing to leave. Phoebe Walker, standing just five meters away, was already in tears, a picture of utter tragedy.