Flash Marriage: Pampered by Mr.Bigshot-Chapter 357 - 356: The Little Rabbit Plans to Run Away from Home!?
Early in the morning, sunlight filtered through the wavering curtains. In the large study, a single beam pierced the dimness, shining directly on a woman.
A woman was half-leaning against a table leg, her hair slightly disheveled and draped over her shoulders.
Nia Mitchell kept her eyes closed, then groggily opened them. The raw, gritty sensation made her eyes particularly uncomfortable.
UGH...
She gently shifted, looking around. Only then did she remember she was in the study.
The study?
Nia Mitchell rubbed her throbbing forehead, a hangover splitting her head. Having slept on the hard floor of the study all night, her entire body ached.
"Uncle Peary?"
Nia Mitchell scratched her hair, looking around, but she didn’t see Maxwell Peary.
Strange, where’s Uncle Peary?
Why would Uncle Peary let her sleep in a place like this?
"Uncle Peary?"
Nia Mitchell stood up and saw her phone discarded to one side.
"The battery’s dead."
She frowned, puzzled. Her first reaction was to find a charger.
A charger?
Then she remembered: she had looked for a charger last night, and then she’d found... photos... a divorce agreement...
Nia Mitchell lunged towards the desk. Sure enough, those things were still there.
So, it wasn’t an illusion.
Looking at her own signature on the divorce agreement, Nia Mitchell gritted her teeth. Damn it, damn it! How could I have signed it?
"AH—I must have been drunk."
Nia Mitchell reached out, wanting to smudge out her signature.
"AH, my brain must have malfunctioned."
Pounding her head, Nia Mitchell turned around, furious, and stormed out of the study.
But this was the reality now, and there were no feelings between her and Maxwell Peary.
In that case...
Nia Mitchell returned to her room, packed all her belongings, and then went downstairs with a suitcase.
"Young Mistress? What are you doing?"
The butler, Frederick Goldsmith, happened to be coming out of the Dining Hall. Breakfast was ready, and he was about to go upstairs to see if Nia Mitchell had woken up.
He hadn’t expected to see Nia Mitchell coming down with a suitcase.
What’s going on?
Are the young master and mistress having such a serious fight?
Is she really planning to leave?
Young Master Peary, you need to come back quickly! Your wife is about to run away! Where on earth are you?
"I’m moving out."
Nia Mitchell smiled. She had already left behind the black card, her mobile phone, clothes, and everything else.
"What?"
Butler Goldsmith started to break out in a cold sweat. Young Mistress, what am I supposed to do?
If Young Master Peary asks me for her, what am I supposed to tell him?
"Young Mistress, it’s just a quarrel. The Young Master actually cares a lot about you. He’s just stubborn with his words; there are many things he’s unwilling to say, choosing to keep them buried in his heart."
Frederick Goldsmith was growing anxious, desperate to persuade her to stay.
"Besides, he suddenly got married, and suddenly there was someone in his life he needed to care for. He might not be accustomed to it yet. He may not know how to handle friction between two people. You can’t... you can’t just leave like this."
Anxious, Frederick Goldsmith stepped forward, reaching for her suitcase.
"Butler Goldsmith, there’s no need."
Nia Mitchell politely declined, her hands still on the suitcase handle.
"I’m not leaving on a whim, nor am I throwing a tantrum. This is what Maxwell Peary wants. He and I... we’re already divorced."
