Chapter 1391 - 1390: So Angry!
Battle of sleeping in the study: failed!
The next morning, the sun lazily crawled out from behind the clouds, and Nia Mitchell finally dragged herself out of bed.
Her whole body was sore and achy. After going downstairs, she flopped straight onto the sofa.
When is this kind of life ever going to end.
What on earth am I supposed to do?
Sighing nonstop, Nia Mitchell’s gloomy expression completely puzzled Frederick Goldsmith.
"Young Madam, what’s wrong with you?"
Could she be feeling unwell?
The Young Master had gone out for a run and would probably be back soon.
"Nothing."
It was just that she felt weak all over and uncomfortable everywhere.
Right at that moment, Maxwell Peary walked in from outside.
"Young Master."
Frederick walked over, wanting to say something, but not quite knowing how to start.
"What is it?"
Maxwell asked, then noticed Frederick looking over in Nia Mitchell’s direction.
"Nia Mitchell, what’s wrong?"
Maxwell walked over to her and sat down on the sofa.
Nia Mitchell pouted, her face full of displeasure.
"Hmph!"
Rabina Mitchell let out a cold snort; it was obvious her little temper had flared up.
"You’re mad, aren’t you?"
Maxwell touched his nose a bit awkwardly, more or less knowing why she was acting like this.
Ahem!
He hadn’t done anything that excessive; last night he’d only asked for it twice.
Cough!
He reached out to pull her up to sit properly, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.
"Don’t be mad, okay?"
His voice was full of doting tenderness. Nia Mitchell’s eyes reddened.
If he hadn’t tried to comfort her, she would’ve been fine, but the moment he started speaking so gently, she suddenly felt terribly wronged.
"You’re not allowed to touch me at all for a whole week!"
Maxwell Peary: ...
...
After Yancy Hastings finished his morning exercise and came back, his father called him into the study.
"The unit has already corrected your death record, but if you want to return to the army, there are still some procedures to go through."
Zion Hastings said.
"Mm, I know."
He understood the discipline of the army very well.
"Stay home for now, spend some proper time with Fiona Sutton, and start getting your wedding arrangements underway."
Everyone wanted to hold the wedding before Fiona’s belly started to really show.
"Mm."
Yancy Hastings nodded.
"When will I be able to go back to the unit?"
He loved his work and was passionate about being a special forces soldier.
If he just stayed at home like this, he’d feel like a useless waste.
"Heal your injuries first. Today, go to the Hospital with Fiona and have both of you checked."
Yancy was wearing a short-sleeved shirt; his arms were covered in bluish-purple bruises, and some spots were still wrapped in gauze.
Just one look and you could tell he was covered in wounds.
Who knew how much worse it looked under his clothes.
And he was already thinking about going back to the unit?
He should take care of himself first.
Listening to his father, Yancy Hastings nodded. That was fine too—he hadn’t seen what the baby in Fiona’s belly looked like yet.
When he returned to the Bedroom, he saw Fiona was already awake, sitting on the bed in a dazed fog.
"What’s wrong?"
Yancy immediately walked over and gently took hold of her arm.
Fiona just stared at Yancy.
He really had come back.
When she’d woken up just now and hadn’t seen him,
she’d thought it had all been just a dream.
Luckily,
luckily he was still here.
"Let’s take your temperature again."
As he spoke, Yancy walked over to the side to get the thermometer.