There was a knock at the door: "Young Master, Miss Cecilia Grant, your tea is ready."
Cici finally took the chance to pull her hand away.
Max Mo's eyes grew dark and clouded.
The door opened, and the servant brought in the tea before quietly leaving.
Cici pretended to drink, holding the cup as she stood by the window, gazing at the scenery outside.
From here, she could see the bustling streets in the distance.
Outside, the world was bustling and colorful, like a tapestry of flowers in full bloom.
But inside, everything was quiet and peaceful.
"Max, give me some time," Cici said softly. "I'll do my best to have a satisfactory answer before your birthday."
Max Mo gave a faint, mocking smile. He didn’t believe Cici could come up with anything effective.
If she had a solution, she would have used it long ago, wouldn’t she?
Right now, she was just buying time.
Still, Max didn’t expose her.
To love someone is to love every part of them—even their little tricks and careful plans.
"Alright." Max’s voice was low. "I’ll wait for your answer."
Max rarely stayed at this house.
But even so, the room’s decor was distinctly masculine and bold.
Cici sat on the sofa, racking her brain for something to say to Max.
Max, on the other hand, looked completely relaxed, sitting across from her, sipping tea and browsing his tablet.
Just as Cici was struggling with what to say, another savior arrived!