Flash Marriage: Pampered by Mr.Bigshot
Chapter 34: Hmm, the kiss took away even my temper.

So, after they left the Supermarket, Nia Mitchell didn’t utter a word the entire way, no matter what Maxwell Peary said or did.

SCREECH—

Maxwell Peary made a turn and stopped the jaw-dropping Rolls-Royce, then turned to look at the woman sitting in the back seat.

"Are you really not going to talk to me?"

Nia Mitchell looked up at his devilishly handsome face, rolled her eyes, and turned her head away.

"Just because I bought a few extra boxes of condoms?"

Maxwell Peary’s face darkened. Even now, he still didn’t understand the workings of this Rabina Mitchell’s mind—how could she get angry over such a trivial thing? He had plenty of money, so it wasn’t about being wasteful or not frugal. Condoms weren’t perishable goods, nor were they luxury items. So, what on earth was Rabina Mitchell angry about?

Seeing Maxwell Peary’s perplexed expression, Nia Mitchell tilted her chin up haughtily at him, her expression clearly saying, I am angry, I’m not going to say a word, and we’ll just see what you do about it.

"Nia Mitchell, are you serious about this?"

Maxwell Peary realized this little woman was being utterly unreasonable, and his expression grew even more somber. He couldn’t even keep one Rabina Mitchell in line...

Maxwell Peary swiftly unbuckled his seatbelt, opened the door, got out, and closed it. Then he opened the rear car door and sat down beside Nia Mitchell.

"What are you doing?" Nia Mitchell, startled, shrank into the corner. He looks like he’s about to get violent! Would he actually hit a woman?

"What do you think I’m doing?" Maxwell Peary’s lips curled into a smirk as he leaned dangerously closer to her.

Nia Mitchell was on the verge of tears but forced a smile. "I... I..." I can’t be this pathetic! I won’t!

"You’ve forgotten what I told you." With a swift hook of his large hand, Maxwell Peary pulled Nia Mitchell into his embrace in the blink of an eye.

"You— MMF..." Nia Mitchell was horrified. Before she could finish speaking, Maxwell Peary’s kiss descended, smothering her panicked attempts to speak.

"Well? Are you still going to throw a tantrum?" Maxwell Peary released her slightly, cupped her face with his hands, and looked directly into her tear-filled eyes.

"You hooligan! I hate you! I want a divorce! A divorce!" Nia Mitchell screamed.

"You!" Hearing her actually say such things, Maxwell Peary’s hands trembled with rage, yet he was terrified he might hurt her. No one had ever dared to challenge his authority.

Nia Mitchell struggled, but she couldn’t break free. Tears streamed down her face, and the tip of her nose reddened with indignation.

Maxwell Peary only released her when he tasted saltiness in his mouth—her tears.

As soon as she was freed, Nia Mitchell, not wanting to remain on his lap, immediately tried to scramble up. But she forgot she was in a car; her head slammed into the roof, and a sharp pain shot through her.

"AH!" Nia Mitchell cried out, her eyes swimming with tears. She stood hunched over in the car, one hand clutching her small head as fresh tears streamed down her face.

Seeing her accusatory expression, Maxwell Peary rubbed his forehead. It seemed he really had lost control a bit earlier.

"Why are you so careless? Let me see." Maxwell Peary nervously reached to move the hand covering her head. That bump sounded so loud; I wonder if it’s swollen.

Nia Mitchell, fuming but not daring to voice her anger, obediently removed her hand, allowing Maxwell Peary to inspect the spot she had hit.

Fortunately, the car roof wasn’t hard and had no sharp edges. Although it was very painful, it hadn’t swollen.

"We’ll see if you behave yourself in the future."