Consequences of Dumping the Obsessive Boss: Stuck with Him Forever

Chapter 291: Summer Lowell Decides to Work at the Studio

"Noah came to see you today. Whatever you talked about, I won’t ask, but you know in your heart whether it was just idle chit-chat."

Maxim Sinclair gave her a meaningful look and led her into the car, "There’s still some distance to go home. Let’s drive back. If you’re truly bored, we can stop at the park for a while, and I’ll walk with you."

"No need. I’m not in the mood for a walk now. Let’s just go back; I’m tired."

As soon as Summer Lowell got into the car, she sat far away by the window on the other side, as if eager to avoid him.

Maxim Sinclair, aware of her little thoughts, said nothing and remained still, engaging in a business conversation with Assistant Collins in the front seat.

Upon reaching the villa, Maxim Sinclair opened the car door and called over Assistant Collins, and the two walked in side by side.

He didn’t even glance back at Summer Lowell, who had just gotten out of the car.

Assistant Collins sensed something was amiss, turned back twice, and as they climbed the stairs, Maxim asked lightly, "What is it? Did you leave something behind?"

"No, just that Madam is still outside. Did President Sinclair forget about her?"

"Someone as significant as her, I couldn’t ignore even if I wanted to," Maxim glared at him, still not looking back, and headed straight to the study.

Assistant Collins, a step behind, rubbed his chin, puzzled, "Is he upset with the man from earlier?"

Downstairs, Summer Lowell didn’t go inside, wandering idly around with arms crossed.

The timing of Maxim Sinclair’s return was perfect, just catching Noah about to take her away.

All things considered, it seemed Heaven lent her a helping hand today.

If Maxim had arrived a bit earlier or later, Noah might very well have become the next person to face his wrath.

Noah had no designs on her and only had genuine admiration.

Such a good man, she couldn’t bear to see him implicated by her and then suffer Maxim Sinclair’s retaliation.

From behind the upstairs window, Maxim Sinclair held a coffee cup, watching Summer Lowell wander aimlessly below.

Curious, Assistant Collins leaned over again, "President Sinclair, the jewelry you bought abroad just cleared customs and is on its way."

"Mm, got it."

Maxim replied blandly, knowing full well that the jewels had arrived, but the recipient might not accept them.

Assistant Collins glanced downstairs following Maxim’s gaze, recalling the scene from earlier that day, then opened his mouth but swallowed his words.

Better not meddle in the boss’s personal affairs, he thought.

...

Maxim Sinclair had been back for a week, but Summer Lowell had only seen him when she woke from a dream parched.

Otherwise, he’d leave early and return late, no longer making time to have meals with her like before.

Summer lowered her head, sipping her porridge, watching the dim morning light outside, curiosity nagging at her mind if Maxim Sinclair had run into trouble at work again.

Otherwise, why would he be so busy, leaving early and coming back so late, not even catching a glimpse of his shadow?

At eight-thirty in the morning, Assistant Collins carried a lunchbox to the top-floor office of Maxim Sinclair, "President Sinclair, here’s your breakfast."

Maxim, running on the treadmill, glanced at him, "Just leave it on the table."

And then he resumed his run, seemingly unbothered.

For five days, this scene had repeated itself, to the point where Assistant Collins’s curiosity nearly got the better of him.

Clearly, while abroad, Maxim worked overtime rigorously, even making time to go to an auction house to bring a gift back for Summer Lowell.

Yet once back home, it was as if he’d become a different person, suddenly growing cold toward her.

Not only did he deliberately avoid her by leaving early and returning late, he also stayed at the office past closing.

Something felt amiss no matter how one looked at it.

On the seventh day, Summer Lowell couldn’t hold back any longer. She set an alarm to wake up in the middle of the night and nudged the barely asleep Maxim Sinclair, "Wake up, I have something to tell you."

Maxim woke quickly, it was hard to tell if he was a light sleeper or hadn’t been asleep at all.

He turned on the lamp beside him, propped himself up against the headboard, and rubbed his eyes, not looking at Summer, "Speak, waking me up in the middle of the night must mean it’s important."

"I want to go out and work. I’ve been here with you for months now. If this keeps up, I’ll be completely out of touch with the world."

Saying this, Summer felt a tinge of apprehension.

Her decision stemmed from Maxim Sinclair’s recent behavior, making her feel like she’d been discarded by him.

She’s unsure why his attitude changed after forcibly making her sign the contract.

Maybe it has to do with that day with Noah, or maybe not.

Regardless, she had to try.

She truly grew tired of staying here.

Though this house was as luxurious and precious as Noah said, the seclusion made it unbearably boring.

Summer hadn’t picked up a pen in ages.

She feared that if this continued, she would become a useless person!

After she finished, silence enveloped the room once more.

Waiting without response from Maxim Sinclair, Summer’s heart grew heavy with anxiety.

As expected, she shouldn’t have held out hope; Maxim Sinclair surely wouldn’t agree to let her leave.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have blocked Noah’s car with such a grim expression a week ago.

Just as she was inwardly chuckling bitterly,

Maxim spoke, "Alright, if you really want to work, then go to the studio I prepared for you; it’s fully staffed."

"You actually kept that studio?"

Summer couldn’t hide her surprise, "How are they willing to just wait around?"

"Paid leave is quite the perk; plenty of people like it." Maxim saw no issue, fully aware of his financial clout.

Afterward, he closely examined Summer, "Why? Still not willing to work in that studio? It’s up to you. If you want to invest time and money finding a new location, handling licenses, and hiring staff, that’s fine too. But you’d waste too much time, and the ready-made studio is quite good."

His tone was warm and patient.

Summer could tell he was earnestly discussing the pros and cons with her, without any hidden agenda.

But strangely, she felt unsettled.

There was an inexplicable sense of discomfort.

Maxim noticed the discomfort in her expression and smiled slightly, "If you’re unwilling, so be it. I’ll have someone over tomorrow, an expert in this, to help you save some effort."

"No," Summer shook her head, refusing, "You just said there is a ready-made studio, so why not use it? But I’ll count you in as a partner, sharing the profit with you. Consider it repayment for setting up the studio."

"Such a tiny morsel of meat," Maxim found it amusing, "Whatever makes you happy."

With that, he pulled the covers back up and settled down, "Let’s sleep."