"Nia Mitchell, have you finished your work yet?" Phoebe Walker looked at Nia Mitchell, her face a mask of disbelief. Is she really about to leave work? "I’ve finished my work for today." It was just about familiarizing myself with the Company. After all, MC Group is a classic case study, and I learned a fair bit about it in School. "Have you finished inputting the data?" Those materials weren’t something she could just casually finish. I really thought Nia Mitchell would be working overtime until dawn today. How is she leaving already? "Didn’t you say so yourself today? That’s my work for tomorrow." We’ll cross tomorrow’s bridge when we come to it. Let’s deal with what’s in front of us first. After Nia Mitchell finished speaking, she picked up her bag, opened the door of the Secretary Department, and headed for the elevator. Just then, Maxwell Peary also came out, and they happened to run into each other. Everyone in the Secretary Department froze, their gazes involuntarily drawn to the scene outside the door. Oh my gosh, what is Nia Mitchell up to? Is the CEO actually leaving work this early today? This is a once-in-a-blue-moon event! For Nia Mitchell to leave work early and actually run into him! "Are we eating at home tonight, or out?" Maxwell Peary asked in a low voice, making Nia Mitchell jump. She glanced towards the Secretary Department; everyone seemed to be watching them curiously, though some of the more forward ones clearly showed a hint of schadenfreude. Startled, Nia Mitchell pressed her lips tightly together. So annoying, so annoying, so annoying! Who wants to talk to him here? DING. The elevator doors opened, and Nia Mitchell was the first to step inside. Maxwell Peary stood outside, a smile playing on his lips. Seeing Nia Mitchell already pressing the ’close door’ button, he quickly stepped inside. The moment the elevator doors shut, Maxwell Peary reached out and slipped his arm around Nia Mitchell’s slender waist. Follow current ɴᴏᴠᴇʟs on 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭⚑𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮⚑𝕟𝕖𝕥 "Let go of me! I’m not mad." Forcefully prying his mischievous hand away, Nia Mitchell shifted to the side. Maxwell Peary didn’t believe she wasn’t angry. Look at her pouting—her lips were pursed enough to hang an oil pot from them. "If you’re not angry, call me ’Honey’ and let me hear it." Nia Mitchell shot Maxwell Peary an irritated look. He’s really pushing his luck! She certainly wasn’t going to call him that. So, she turned her head away haughtily, giving him the cold shoulder. "Nia Mitchell, being disobedient now?" Maxwell Peary stood casually to one side, his threat delivered lightly. Nia Mitchell pouted, looking at Maxwell Peary with great conflict. Ugh, this uncle is so petty! "Uncle, why did you have to talk to me at the elevator entrance? What if other people find out?" Maxwell Peary could tease her without betraying anything, but she wasn’t confident she could fool others. "Alright, I won’t do it again next time, okay?" Maxwell Peary coaxed her helplessly. Good thing she’s my legal wife; otherwise, this would look like we’re having an affair. "Now, can you answer me? Hmm? Are we eating at home or out?" Maxwell Peary had never agonized over such questions before. Now, with an extra person in his life, he naturally had more to consider. Nia Mitchell thought for a moment. What if their colleagues saw them dining out? "Let’s eat at home. It’s healthier and more nutritious." Maxwell Peary, unaware of the little thoughts running through her mind, nodded. Going home to eat was a good idea too. They could take a bath together after dinner, and then... they could even indulge in some activities that would make them forget all their cares. "How about some home-style cooking tonight? The butler mentioned this morning that they’ve hired a new Chef who’s excellent at making home-style dishes." He was a little worried Nia Mitchell wouldn’t be used to the Western food he usually ate, so yesterday he’d instructed the butler to hire a chef skilled in home-style cooking. "Sounds great! I love home-style cooking the most."