Nia Mitchell took a deep breath, telling herself not to get angry; it wasn't worth it.
"Are you truly his fiancée?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. "Have you been formally engaged?"
Nia Mitchell felt a flicker of fear. If Maxwell Peary really had a fiancée, why would he marry her? Was she truly the mistress, destroying someone else's happiness? Just like that detestable Beatrice Swan?
"Of course, I am Maxwell Peary's fiancée," Belinda Swan declared. "If you insist on shamelessly staying here, hmph, I will make you understand what unbearable consequences truly mean."
Threats. Blatant, undisguised threats.
"Butler Goldsmith!" Belinda Swan called out sharply.
The tension in the living room was palpable. Just then, Frederick Goldsmith emerged from the kitchen. When he saw the scene unfolding, his heart sank.
