Consequences of Dumping the Obsessive Boss: Stuck with Him Forever-Chapter 17: Maxim Sinclair’s Thoughts

A storm brewed in Maxim Sinclair’s eyes before he finally pushed Summer Lowell away and said, "Sit down, eat."

Summer lowered her long lashes, hiding the emotions in her eyes, and spoke in a tone she never used before, "Can we go somewhere else? It’s so quiet and empty here. I don’t like it."

"Afraid?" Maxim bluntly pierced through her little thoughts with a playful look on his face, "It’s the first time I’ve seen you show vulnerability."

Instinctively, Summer wanted to retort that she wasn’t scared, but then she realized that currently, she was under someone else’s roof and had to bow her head.

Moreover, to escape Maxim Sinclair’s grip, she had to pretend to be weak.

"Not really, don’t you feel it’s empty living alone in such a big house?" Summer picked up a spoon and asked while sipping soup.

Maxim chuckled knowingly, "I don’t feel it’s empty. Only those who have a guilty conscience would fear the unknown, like..."

Since returning to the country, Summer lost count of the sarcastic remarks she heard from him; she had long been numb.

He could say whatever he wanted, she’d pretend not to hear anything.

Seeing her non-response, Maxim was displeased. He put down his chopsticks and grasped Summer’s thin wrist, "I thought you wouldn’t stay here obediently today."

Summer suppressed the agitation in her heart, put down the spoon, and looked up at Maxim, "I can’t unlock the chains, and with the surveillance you set up, you can always track my movements. What else can I do but wait here for your return?"

"With your temperament, you should be trying every possible way to leave," Maxim pulled her right hand, gently massaging the red marks made by the silver chain, his tone ambiguous, "Does it hurt?"

"What do you think?" Summer wasn’t sure how to interact with him, having never seen him lose his temper like this, "Curious? Why not try it yourself?"

"So you like it wild?" Maxim raised an eyebrow with a smile, slowly taking out a tube of ointment from his pocket, squeezing a small amount onto his hand, and meticulously applying it on Summer’s wrist, "Too bad, I don’t like being passive."

Summer inwardly didn’t want him to touch her, "It’s just a small red mark, no need to make a fuss, it’ll heal after a night’s sleep."

"That won’t do," Maxim slowly massaged the ointment with his thumb, speaking with a smile, "It’s only been a day, and it’s already red. In a few days, won’t it break the skin?"

"How many more days do you plan to keep me?"

Hearing his words clearly, Summer couldn’t help but change her expression, questioning angrily, "If you really hate me, why not call the police and have me thrown in jail?"

"I wouldn’t bear to do that," Maxim withdrew his hand, grabbed a wet wipe from the table, meticulously wiping his fingers one by one, and after a while he said, "Stay put for a couple of days and take this time to calm down and think whether you want to come back to me or not."

This was something she didn’t need to contemplate. Summer, unless she was out of her mind, would never choose to return to this great demon king named Maxim Sinclair.

Afraid he might lose his temper again, Summer could only gently refuse, "I worked hard to become the director. If I just resign, wouldn’t all my efforts be in vain?"

No sooner had she spoken, Maxim looked at her with a smile that wasn’t quite a smile, "Let alone how you climbed to that director position, let me just ask, does managing a group of designers who don’t respect you feel comfortable?"

Summer pretended not to see the mockery in his eyes, focusing on her meal, and only after a long time did she reply, "No job is easy. I was an outsider coming in, it’s normal for them not to accept it. Time will tell, they’ll eventually respect me."

"Well said!"

Maxim raised his hands and applauded her half-jokingly, "People avoid harm and pursue benefits. Being a director at Stellart doesn’t have much of a future in my eyes. But if you come to me, you can focus on pursuing your dreams, at least you don’t have to bear undeserved blame."

[But aren’t all the blames on me your doing?]

Summer held back and didn’t voice her thoughts.

Seeing her just quietly eat, Maxim mistakenly thought she was considering his words, and in a good mood, he ruffled her hair twice, "It’s good that you’re listening. Think about it; my secretary position is still open and you’re welcome back anytime."

[Then you can keep it vacant forever, for I’ll never return.]

Summer replied in her mind, subtly edging her body to the side.

Her slight movement didn’t escape Maxim’s notice.

Maxim chuckled, extending his leg to hook Summer’s chair, pulling both her and the chair back.

Summer glanced down at their tightly pressed thighs, striving for calmness, "Can you let me eat in peace?"

"Go ahead, I’m not taking your chopsticks," Maxim grinningly retorted, as he placed his left hand on Summer’s waist, "The fragrance on you... is it not a commercial perfume?"

There was no avoiding it now, giving up entirely, Summer replied coldly, "What? You want to wear women’s perfume too?"

"Of course not," Maxim leaned closer, his nose a hand’s breadth away as he inhaled the scent behind her ear, "Having you is enough for me~"

Summer completely lost her appetite, pushing aside her bowl and chopsticks, staring ahead with a voice as cold as ice, "Don’t you think your behavior is quite disgusting?"

"Is it?" Maxim nonchalantly replied, his left index finger gently brushing Summer’s waist, "Finished eating already? You’re too thin. Eat more, it feels better with some meat."

"I can’t eat anymore, your actions are affecting my appetite." Summer tried to get up and escape Maxim’s embrace, but for some reason, his hand felt like it was welded on, impossible to remove. She clasped his hand, feeling resigned, "Could you kindly move your distinguished left hand? It’s uncomfortable where it is."

"Uncomfortable?" Maxim’s tone was exceptionally gentle, his breath warm on Summer’s ear as he spoke, "No worries, we’ll be doing this often. Get used to it."

Summer resisted rolling her eyes, patiently negotiating, "I’m ticklish, and I just ate. Your hand around my waist is too tight, it’s really uncomfortable."

At the end, Summer herself didn’t notice the trace of pleading in her voice.

"Eaten too much? Then take a walk," Maxim readily withdrew his hand, getting up and walking to the side first.

Summer glanced at the messy table, an idea flickering in her mind. She called to Maxim heading towards the bathroom, "These... just leaving them here?"