Nia Mitchell choked. She found it truly hard to imagine that lively person getting drunk and saying such things. Uncle Peary must have been very upset when he heard that. No, I have to change the subject, or the CEO will be upset for days. Truth be told, Rabina, you were overthinking things. "Uncle, will you come with me to the Royal View Villa? I was supposed to get my luggage last time I went, but I couldn’t." Nia Mitchell looked at Maxwell Peary expectantly, hoping he would agree. Maxwell Peary gazed into her eyes. They weren’t short of anything here; there were plenty of clothes and necessities. Her insistence on going to the Royal View Villa to fetch her luggage must mean she’d left something important there. "Alright, I’ll go upstairs to get a jacket, and then I’ll go with you." With that, Maxwell Peary strode upstairs, quickly grabbed a suit jacket, and came back down. Nia Mitchell looked up at Maxwell Peary as he descended the stairs, feeling a little mesmerized. Today, he didn’t seem as stern as usual. His white shirt was worn casually, its buttons not all meticulously done up. He simply carried his black suit jacket. His hair, usually combed with meticulous care, also looked somewhat tousled today. "Are you satisfied with what you see?" ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵✶𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖✶𝓷𝓮𝓽 Maxwell Peary approached, a slight smile playing on his lips. He reached out, pulled her close, and planted a sweet kiss on her soft, red lips. "Mmh, you ambushed me." Nia Mitchell covered her small mouth, her eyes sparkling as she looked at him. Maxwell Peary chuckled indulgently and took her small hand in his. "Our driver is off today, so I’ll drive." He led Nia Mitchell outside. The sunlight cast their two elongated shadows on the ground. Nia Mitchell grinned, suddenly letting go of Maxwell Peary’s hand and scampering forward a couple of steps. "Look, Uncle, I’m taller than you now!" She pointed at their shadows on the ground, laughing with delight. Maxwell Peary reached out to pull her back, but she nimbly dodged him. "Haha, you can’t catch me! I *am* taller than you!" She laughed heartily. She saw that while Maxwell Peary wasn’t running, he had quickened his pace. So, she skipped and hopped along, always maintaining a lead of about an arm’s length ahead of Maxwell Peary. Not far behind, Butler Goldsmith watched the scene unfold, a gratified expression on his face. The golden sunlight bathed them, as if cloaking them in a halo. That halo had a name: happiness. He had taken care of Maxwell Peary for many years. The Young Master had always been mature for his age, reserved, and rarely showed his emotions. This Young Mistress had only been here a week, yet he had already seen the Young Master smile multiple times. It seems Nia Mitchell is the one destined for the Young Master. I don’t need to worry about Maxwell Peary anymore. Nia Mitchell’s bell-like laughter could still be heard from afar. Even Frederick Goldsmith couldn’t help but smile. "Alright, we’re here." Maxwell Peary pointed to the cars nearby, signaling her to stop. Grinning, Nia Mitchell came to his side. Just from that short distance, she was already a little out of breath. "Phew, I’m exhausted!" Nia Mitchell settled into the limited-edition black Maybach, still feeling a bit wistful that their game was over. "Nia Mitchell, I’ve noticed something." Maxwell Peary reached over to fasten her seatbelt, then looked up at her. "We didn’t ’do anything’ last night. You not only woke up exceptionally early this morning, but you’ve also been bouncing around. That’s a classic sign of excess energy. From now on, we should have a proper ’workout’ every night."