Flash Marriage: Pampered by Mr.Bigshot-Chapter 570 - 569 Uncle Peary is Here

"Young Master Peary!?"

The supervisor was so shocked her mouth hung wide open, and she stared incredulously at the manager.

"Is that Young Master Peary from Capital Town? The... the Young Master Peary?"

No one knew how to describe their feelings. Good heavens, Young Master Peary! That’s... Young Master Peary!

"Of course! How many Young Master Pearys are there in this world? All of you, pull yourselves together!"

As he spoke, a black limited-edition Rolls-Royce sped towards them.

"SCREECH—"

The shriek of brakes pierced the sky as the car stopped smoothly, its doors perfectly aligned with the hotel’s grand gate. 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

A suffocating, oppressive aura emanated from the car, causing everyone present to lower their heads and hold their breath.

At this moment, it was as if everyone had forgotten how to breathe. They all stood properly, not daring to move a muscle.

A pair of black, custom-made leather shoes emerged from the car, followed by Maxwell Peary himself.

He stepped out and reached up to fasten the buttons of his suit jacket, which he had undone while driving.

His black, handmade suit seemed even more mysterious in the darkness of the night. Although the area was well-lit, it still cast a somber pall over the surroundings.

Maxwell Peary scanned everyone standing there, his gaze finally settling on the manager.

"Where is she?"

His voice, seemingly drifting from beyond the Nine Heavens, made the manager shiver and quickly step forward.

"Mr. CEO, she is in Private Room One."

The lowest-tiered private rooms in the Royal Dynasty didn’t have names, only numbers.

Private Room One. Evidently, its minimum charge was the lowest among all private rooms in the entire Royal Dynasty.

Only after speaking did the manager realize something was amiss; he practically wanted to slap himself. I should have arranged Mrs. Peary in a different private room! Why on earth didn’t I?

"Private Room One?"

Maxwell Peary clearly paused for a moment, his brow furrowed.

Why do I have a feeling Nia Mitchell isn’t going to be happy about this?

"That’s... correct."

The manager kept his head down, terrified that the CEO’s next words would be, "Settle your accounts and get out."

"Hmm."

It was an emotionless sound, his voice so low the manager almost thought he’d imagined it.

By the time the manager processed it, Maxwell Peary had already walked into the hotel.

This, ultimately, remained a mystery.

The manager often wondered what Maxwell Peary had meant back then. Did he really make that sound, or was it just my imagination?

Of course, no one could answer that for him.

Inside Private Room One, it was deathly quiet; everyone remained frozen in place.

Apparently, after pooling all their money, they still didn’t have nearly enough to cover the bill.

No, to be precise, their combined funds weren’t even enough to cover the afternoon karaoke session, let alone tonight’s lavish feast.

It was rare to see such a sumptuous spread of dishes in a nameless private room.

Maxwell Peary continued walking forward. The manager quickly moved ahead of him and pushed open the door to Private Room One.

The door creaked open, revealing a heavy atmosphere within, and several men appeared in the doorway.

The first figure to catch their eye was not the obsequious manager at the forefront, but the man in a suit at the center of the group, who stood without uttering a word.

The man wore a black suit, his hair was impeccably styled, and his sharply defined features combined to project the archetypal image of a successful man.

However, the more prominent such individuals were, the more potent the aura they exuded.

Even if such a person wore ordinary clothes and was lost in a vast crowd, they would still be instantly recognizable.

This, perhaps, was the legendary charisma people spoke of.