In the Royal Bay Villa, a few villas away, Shirley Grant was alone on her large red bed. Last night, Alan Morgan hadn’t shown up. It was like returning to that night years ago when she had waited, torn between resentment and anticipation. Even the ending was surprisingly similar. She chuckled bitterly, got out of bed, put on her shoes, and left the bedroom. She dialed Alan Morgan’s number. The call connected. "Hello?" she ventured, but only silence greeted her from Alan’s end. "Alan, are you listening?" The other end remained silent. Shirley Grant looked down at her slippers. "I’m leaving Capital Town today. As you wished, I will never come back." Her voice was cold, devoid of any sadness. The other end of the phone remained silent. "I will sell the villa here. Thank you for making me unexpectedly wealthy. I..." The call disconnected abruptly. Shirley’s eyes reddened as she fought back the tears threatening to spill. This was his choice. So... goodbye, Alan! Nia Mitchell came out slowly after freshening up and then changed her clothes. Nia looked around the bedroom for Maxwell Peary but couldn’t find him. Had he gone downstairs already? Confused, Nia descended the stairs. Halfway down, she caught sight of Maxwell Peary sitting on the couch in the living room. Nia immediately picked up her pace, scampering over and throwing herself onto him. "Hungry? We’ve been waiting for you to eat." As he spoke, Maxwell lifted her easily, one arm supporting her small bottom. Nia bristled instantly and quickly looked around. Thank goodness the butler and servants aren’t here. That would be too embarrassing! Maxwell’s domineering ’No!’ was his only answer. He simply carried her to the dining hall and placed her on a chair. In the dining hall, the butler, Frederick Goldsmith, was setting out lunch, placing dish after dish on the table. "I want Sweet and Sour Ribs." Nia glanced at the dishes on the table; none of her favorites were there today. "You need to eat something light today." As he spoke, Maxwell placed a bowl of Millet Porridge in front of Nia, along with a few light dishes. "I’m completely fine now." Nia pulled a long face, unwilling to even glance at the Millet Porridge before her a second time. She liked Millet Porridge, true, but right now, she craved meat, something with more flavor. Maxwell’s expression turned grave, and his tone became much more serious. Nia felt a flicker of fear. His mood swings were too fast! "Actually, you were supposed to get one more injection this morning." Official source ıs 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭•𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢•𝓷𝓮𝓽 Maxwell said this casually, but Nia’s expression changed drastically, and she felt utterly dismayed. "I think Millet Porridge tastes better than Sweet and Sour Ribs." Nia managed a bitter laugh, forcing a wide smile onto her face as she reached out with a small hand for the bowl of Millet Porridge. Seeing her , Maxwell felt his heart soften. He remembered her eyes, bright red, from when he’d given her the fever-reducing shot in the early hours of the morning. "Frederick, tell the kitchen to prepare a portion of Sweet and Sour Ribs. Make it as light as possible, and don’t make too much." Maxwell rubbed his temples, finally compromising. Frederick, standing to one side, was still processing. What did Young Master Peary just say? He ordered Sweet and Sour Ribs for Nia? Then what was the point of him ordering light meals and Millet Porridge when he came down from the second floor earlier?