Nia Mitchell pouted, her little face a mask of displeasure. She could only see the top of the CEO’s dark head as he bent down, squatting there to change her shoes. She couldn’t see Maxwell Peary’s expression, but she was definitely upset right now. Why should she be the one left feeling uncomfortable all over after he’d had his fill? And he even spoke as if she was the one who had requested it. How embarrassing! How hateful! Nia Mitchell stuck out her little foot, and the slipper he had just put on her went flying about two meters away. Maxwell Peary’s brow furrowed slightly; he was a little puzzled as to what was wrong with her now. He looked up at her, not understanding why she had kicked off the slipper. "Nothing, my foot just slipped." Nia Mitchell sat there expressionlessly, mimicking a certain CEO. Seeing this little expression of hers, Maxwell Peary sensed something was off. He bent down to put the slipper on her foot, then stood up and turned to retrieve the one that had been kicked away. He didn’t know why she was being so ill-mannered. Could it really be that a nine-year age difference created a generation gap? Latest content publıshed on 𝔫𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩⁂𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾⁂𝔫𝔢𝔱 He picked up the slipper, still pondering this. Maxwell Peary stopped mid-sentence, his expression growing even gloomier. Nia Mitchell was sitting on the edge of the bed, her small feet dangling and swinging. The slipper Maxwell Peary had just put on for her had been kicked off again. Maxwell Peary frowned and roared, his voice loud and resonant. Nia Mitchell flinched, her small body trembling slightly. She looked up helplessly, her large, tear-filled eyes meeting his deep, furious gaze. Seeing her , Maxwell Peary took a deep breath, trying hard to suppress his anger and remain as calm as possible. "You tell me, what’s going on with this slipper?" He pointed to the slipper on the floor. He had put everything aside to spend the weekend with her, not to serve her by putting on her clothes and shoes. Nia Mitchell pouted her small lips, slowly lowered her head, and stood there, enduring her full-body discomfort. Seeing her remain silent, Maxwell Peary sighed, walked over to pick up the slipper, and knelt before her again to put it on. This time, Nia Mitchell didn’t throw a fit. Once the slipper was on, she went to the washroom with a dejected look, without even glancing at Maxwell Peary. Maxwell Peary awkwardly touched his nose. Alright, he admitted he had lost his temper just now and shouldn’t have yelled at her. He walked towards the washroom and reached out to open the door, only to find it locked from the inside. Remembering her embarrassed, blushing little face from the time he’d opened the door without her permission, he felt a playful urge. But... if he opened the door and went in now, Bunny would probably bite him. Maxwell Peary frowned, dismissed the thought, and went straight downstairs. Under the bright white lights, the predominantly black and grey color scheme didn’t seem so stark. As soon as Maxwell Peary came downstairs, he saw the butler bustling about. Seeing Maxwell Peary descend, Frederick Goldsmith immediately went up to him. "Young Master, everyone has been contacted. They will come over this afternoon." Maxwell Peary nodded, glancing around the room. "Is this place really that awful?" He murmured to himself. Ever since he learned that the decoration of his house was supposedly bad, the more he looked at it, the more he disliked it. Erm... The butler was at a complete loss, unsure how to answer Young Master Peary’s question. This was the best villa in the Royal Bay Villa estate. Its interiors were personally designed by a world-class master, and the renovation was done by the most top-tier workers. CEO, if you still say this place is awful, how are others supposed to live?