Nia Mitchell's mouth twitched slightly. After she had uttered just a few words, Phoebe Harris was gazing at her intently, like a fly that had spotted a rotten egg.
"Maxwell Peary and I are already married. This is a settled fact. As for the fiancée you mentioned, I do not recall Maxwell ever acknowledging her," Nia said.
Maxwell had stated before that the idea of a fiancée was merely wishful thinking on their part.
There was never even an engagement. So where would a fiancée come from?
Phoebe furrowed her brows; she hadn't expected Maxwell to have told Nia everything.
"Hmph, you're only with Maxwell for the money. How much do you want?" she arrogantly pulled out a check and threw it towards Nia.
Due to gravity, the check whirled a few times in the air before slowly drifting to the floor, landing before it could reach Nia.
"Forget it. Write whatever amount you want on the check."
Phoebe smirked disdainfully at Nia, eager to see her stoop down to pick up the check.
