Maxwell Peary struggled to suppress his emotions, straining his ears for any sound on the other end of the phone. He hoped to hear Rabina Mitchell’s soft voice, but he didn’t. Instead, he clearly heard a man’s booming, cold voice. "Then you don’t have a say in this." Tʜe source of this ᴄontent ɪs 𝔫𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩⁂𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾⁂𝔫𝔢𝔱 Nia Mitchell backed away, her voice trembling. "Behave, and come with us." "AH, LET ME GO! LET GO! LET GO!" Nia Mitchell suddenly bit down hard on the arm of the man in black. "AH, HOW DARE YOU BITE ME!" "Let me go, or you’re all dead!" Nia Mitchell threatened loudly. Only then did she remember that her phone call hadn’t ended, so she quickly pressed the phone to her ear. "Uncle, help me!" Nia Mitchell shouted in panic. Maxwell Peary paced nervously back and forth at the banquet. Upon hearing Nia Mitchell’s voice, he immediately clenched his fists. "Don’t be afraid. Go with them first." Maxwell Peary’s mind raced. Anyone bold enough to kidnap someone in broad daylight in Capital Town must be a significant figure. Standing on Main Street, Nia Mitchell gradually calmed down as she listened to the voice on the phone. "Be a good girl. Go with them for now. I’ll come and take you home soon." If Nia continued to struggle, he feared her captors might harm her. He couldn’t bear the thought of Nia getting hurt in any way, not even just being knocked unconscious. "Really?" Nia Mitchell bit her lip, standing there helplessly. "Don’t you trust me?" After those three heavy words, Nia Mitchell hung up the phone. She slowly lifted her head, the initial panic gone from her eyes. "Fine, I’ll go with you." She looked coldly at the two strangers in front of her and started towards the Rolls-Royce parked by the roadside. Inside the Banquet Hall, Maxwell Peary hung up and immediately dialed Alan Morgan. "Boss? Looking for me? HICCUP!" Alan Morgan’s voice was barely audible over the noisy music and thundering rhythm. "Alan, where the hell are you?" Alan Morgan took a deep drag from his cigarette, leaning back casually on the sofa. Several women, with gaudy makeup and revealing clothes, kept pouring him wine. "I’m... I’m... I’m... definitely not at home." Alan Morgan thought for a long time. His mind was a blank, and he wasn’t even sure where he was. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. Maxwell Peary abruptly ended the call in frustration. Damn it! For him to drop the ball at such a critical moment! He quickly dialed Yancy Hastings’ number. At that moment, Yancy was standing silently before Evelyn Peary. "Are you going to say something? What’s the point of just standing there blocking my way?" Evelyn Peary shot him a glare. Has military service made him stupid? "Evelyn Peary, I found out something yesterday. I don’t know if you’re aware of it," Yancy Hastings said. He had remained silent for a long moment, mentally rehearsing his words several times before finally speaking. "How would I know if you don’t tell me?" Is this his opening line, or does he expect me to guess? Is there a prize for guessing right? Yancy Hastings choked and awkwardly cleared his throat. "Well... Yesterday, my dad mentioned that the Peary Clan had hinted to our family that I should be the one to propose marriage." Though he was a straightforward man, he had spent all his time isolated in the Military Camp and had hardly interacted with women, so saying such things was quite embarrassing for him.