Nia Mitchell stood there silently, rolling her eyes in contempt. "Did you summon me using such methods just to have this woman humiliate me?" A barely perceptible frown touched Samuel Peary’s brow; he was somewhat surprised by Nia Mitchell’s sharp tongue. He slowly descended the stairs and came to stand before Nia Mitchell. "Is this how you speak to an elder?" His voice, though not loud, carried an inherent authority, and each word seemed to strike deep into one’s heart. An immense sense of pressure enveloped Nia Mitchell, yet she still refused to lower her head. "Elders should also behave like elders." If this elder isn’t worthy of respect, why should I humbly bow my head? "What do you mean by that?" The butler had already instructed a servant to bring two chairs. After Samuel Peary sat down, Phoebe Harris also took a seat without ceremony. With the two hosts seated on one side and the guest left standing on the other, it was quite impolite. The surrounding servants who brought the chairs immediately turned and left. The butler hesitated for a moment, but under Samuel Peary’s gaze, he too had no choice but to withdraw. The vast living room suddenly held only three people. A heavy silence descended, and the intense pressure bore down directly on Nia Mitchell. After a long silence, Nia Mitchell took a deep breath. "If you have something to say, please say it quickly. I need to get back, or Maxwell Peary will start to worry." Nia Mitchell was speaking the truth. She needed to leave as soon as possible and call Maxwell Peary to tell him she was alright. But to Samuel Peary and Phoebe Harris, her words were clearly a provocation, as if she were saying: Your son cares a lot about me. You’d better let me go, or you’ll be finished when he finds out. After this simple and crude interpretation of her meaning, Samuel Peary was consumed by rage. "Utterly impudent!" Samuel Peary shot up from his chair, his words thick with threats. "You are to leave Maxwell immediately, or don’t blame me for being merciless!" "I won’t leave unless he doesn’t want me anymore." "Do you think Maxwell truly loves you? You’re merely a substitute for Anne Davidson." Samuel Peary, in his extreme anger, blurted out Anne Davidson’s name, bringing her into it. Phoebe Harris, sitting to the side, immediately became animated when Samuel Peary voluntarily mentioned Anne Davidson. "I was wondering why you looked so familiar. Turns out you look a lot like Anne Davidson. No wonder. Back then, Anne Davidson was Maxwell Peary’s Achilles’ heel. Everyone in our circle knew Anne Davidson and Maxwell Peary were a couple. Anne Davidson was even pregnant at the time." When Phoebe Harris talked about Anne Davidson, she could go on for three days and three nights. A couple? His Achilles’ heel? Pregnant? Nia Mitchell took two steps back, her mind filled with these words. She stood there, stunned and bewildered. "You two must be lying to me." They must be saying this deliberately to make me leave Maxwell Peary. "Lying to you?" Phoebe Harris’s voice suddenly rose. "What good would lying to you do us? Hmph, the reason no one in Capital Town discusses this matter is because our Peary Clan suppressed it. Otherwise, the entire Capital Town would probably still be buzzing with talk about it." Nia Mitchell’s face turned deathly pale, her hands clenched tightly. "Then where is Anne Davidson now?" If they were truly so in love, why was Uncle Peary living alone before? And that child... why haven’t I seen it? "Anne Davidson and Maxwell Peary went to Provence on vacation and never came back. However, Maxwell Peary frequently visits Provence. I presume Anne Davidson has settled down there."