Belinda Swan huffily left the room. Nia Mitchell, still settled comfortably on the couch, watched her go and then turned to Maxwell Peary with a smirk.
"Seems like Uncle Peary has quite a few admirers," she teased.
Just look at her, so beautiful and tear-stricken. Tsk, tsk, Maxwell Peary is truly heartless.
Maxwell curled his lips into a grin. "But I only fancy one, and that’s you."
Nia blushed once again. She couldn’t help but recall the "daily necessities" stashed in the drawer of her bedside table.
Maxwell moved to sit beside Nia, casually draping an arm around her shoulder.
"Let’s go. Uncle Peary is taking you out for a feast."
Nia nodded and scurried into the bedroom to change. A few new clothes had been delivered earlier.
She browsed through the clothing rack. Unfortunately, none of them matched her usual style.
"Uncle Peary, what should I wear?"
She turned to see Maxwell entering the room and continued sifting through the clothes.
"What about this one?" he suggested, holding up a pure white dress.
Nia bit her lip. The dress was pretty, but she had never worn anything like it before.
"Then how about this one? Pink would definitely suit you."
Nia glanced at the pink dress. It really is pretty, but...
"Never mind, I’ll just stick with what I have." The rıghtful source is 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡✶𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚✶𝙣𝙚𝙩
She closed the wardrobe door and faced Maxwell with a smile.
Maxwell wasn’t surprised at her decision; he gently stroked her hair in indulgence.
The place was quaint and antique. Under the neon lights, the interior shimmered with a soft glow.
Maxwell stepped out of the car and opened the door for Nia. She smiled and took his hand.
She had only been here a couple of times due to its high-end price, but she had to admit the food was exceptional.
"What’s wrong? Don’t you like it here?"
Maxwell paused mid-stride. It was his oversight; he hadn’t considered whether she would place or not.
"If you don’t like it here, we can go somewhere else."
He was about to lead her away, though he was internally berating the place. This Madgar Pavilion is such a failure; it can’t even keep Rabina Mitchell. It seems I need to have a proper talk with certain people about this.
"No, no, it’s not that I don’t like it," Nia quickly said. "It’s just a bit pricey."
Alright, speaking her mind felt truly refreshing.
Unable to hold back his laughter, Maxwell led her into the Madgar Pavilion.
Inside the Madgar Pavilion, a waiter enthusiastically greeted them.
"Young Master Peary?! We’ve kept a private booth available for you. This way, please."
Maxwell nodded, leading Nia further inside.
"Ask your manager to come see me."
The Madgar Pavilion’s boss had an eccentric habit. She preferred to be called ’manager’ rather than ’boss’.
The waiter nodded, poured them some tea, closed the door, and left.
"Uncle Peary, are you familiar with this place?"
Maxwell merely smiled without saying a word. Wouldn’t she find out soon enough whether he was or not?
"The desserts here are delicious. You can try some later."
Nia smiled and nodded. Just then, Maxwell’s phone rang. He frowned, clearly displeased by the interruption.
"You take the call. I’m going to the restroom."
Nia stood up to leave the private room. She’d been here before, so she knew where the restrooms were.
This place is so beautiful, with its brilliant, dazzling lights. It feels different every time I come here.
Before she even reached the restroom, Nia heard the rhythmic CLICK-CLACK-CLICK of high heels approaching from a distance.
Just as Nia was about to look up and see who was walking with such an ostentatious flair, she felt a sudden shove, lost her balance, and crashed hard onto the floor.
"AH!" a woman’s sharp, shrill cry pierced the air.
"Watch where you’re going! Are you blind?!"