Night fell swiftly, and Nia Mitchell hurriedly got into a taxi back to Royal Bay Villa.
Surprisingly, Maxwell Peary was at home, not in his usual white shirt, but already impeccably dressed in a suit.
"Uncle, are you going out?"
Nia Mitchell changed into her evening gown and put on light makeup.
Maxwell Peary looked at her, his throat tightening as he strode over to her.
"Who told you to wear makeup?"
Nia was taken aback. What kind of question was this? She was going to a banquet, already so formally dressed in an evening gown; surely she couldn't go without makeup?
"Is there a problem?" Were her makeup skills so poor that she was unpresentable?
"From now on, no makeup."
He'd never known that Nia, who looked so simple and unadorned without makeup, could be this stunning with it on. It was one thing for him to appreciate this stunning side of her alone; he wasn't generous enough to let other men see her this way.
"Okay, okay, I get it. I'm going to be late."
