Nia Mitchell dashed out of the hotel, but found no one outside. Had Uncle Peary left? She hung her head in desolation. The air conditioning had been on throughout the party, so the temperature in her evening dress was just right. Outside, however, it was a bit cold. She shivered and was about to take out her phone to call her driver when several people suddenly appeared before her. There were men and women among them, holding notebooks and pens, with large cameras hanging around their necks. "Nia Mitchell, what’s your relationship with Young Master Peary?" one of the men asked, immediately pointing a device at her. Nia Mitchell was taken aback. Was that a voice recorder? "Who are you?" Why had these people suddenly rushed up to her, asking about her relationship with Uncle Peary? "I’m a journalist with Star Media," the man replied, continuing to point the voice recorder at her. "I apologize, but please let me through. I need to go home." She didn’t know why these journalists were asking these things, but decided it was best not to answer. She didn’t want to risk saying the wrong thing; Uncle Peary was already angry today. She pulled her small shawl tighter, but it did little to ward off the chill of the Capital Town night. "Come on, Nia Mitchell, just tell us. We’ve been waiting outside for a long time. Aren’t you Young Master Peary’s sugar baby?" one of the journalists said, blocking her path as he saw she was about to leave. His words were exceptionally grating. "Please be more respectful!" Nia Mitchell retorted. "If you wanted to ask, why didn’t you ask Maxwell Peary when he came out earlier?" Were these journalists just picking on her because she was an easy target? Chapters fırst released on 𝔫𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩⚫𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢⚫𝔫𝔢𝔱 "Stop trying to avoid it. There’s nothing shameful about being kept. You’re already doing it, aren’t you? What’s there to be afraid to admit?" This young journalist was from some obscure Gossip Entertainment Company that relied on sensational exposés to grab headlines. Their company loved to expose things like scandals involving big shots’ mistresses, which CEO was keeping a lover, who in the Entertainment Circle used illicit means to get ahead, who had plastic surgery, and so on. They published all sorts of exaggerated and unconfirmed content without a second thought. Nia Mitchell said nothing, pushing past him to leave. "Aha, getting angry from embarrassment, are we? Silence is admission, you know. Little girl, at your age, do your parents support you doing this? After all, you’ve latched onto the famous Young Master Peary." The reporter relentlessly kept blocking her, his words becoming more and more vile. Furious, Nia Mitchell stopped and swept her gaze over the surrounding journalists. This journalist was slandering her so maliciously, yet the others said nothing, merely watching and encircling her. It seemed they weren’t good people either, just waiting for this reporter to dig something up so they could get a piece of the pie. "Please don’t make baseless speculations, or I will sue you." The evening wind brushed past, and Nia Mitchell’s small face flushed red from the cold. "Threatening me, are you? Little girl, you’re threatening a journalist! You think I’ll be scared just because you threaten me? I won’t bow down to malicious forces! I’m telling you, you’ll be the top story tomorrow!" As he spoke, the journalist even took out his camera and started snapping photos of her furiously. "What are you doing!" Nia Mitchell raised her hand to cover her face. How could these journalists be so unreasonable? "Stop taking pictures!" Nia Mitchell pushed away the camera that was shoved in her face. Who would have thought the journalist would actually stagger and fall to the ground with a THUD. "She’s hitting a journalist! She’s hitting a journalist! I’ll definitely expose you! You think you’re above the law just because you’re some big shot’s mistress? She’s hit a journalist out of shame and anger! Everyone, quick, take photos...!"