Mr. Powell Is Hunting for His Wife

Brooklyn Powell looked at her. He didn’t move away from his eyes which made Dianna Moss feel creepy.

Actually, Dianna wasn’t very sure, to help Brooklyn make a perfume that can help him sleep wasn’t simple. The undeniable reality was that different people made different perfumes. The type of perfume she made might be functional to Brooklyn but it might lose its function after some time. 

The best way to guarantee his sleep was to allow the perfumer consistently to mix the perfume for him to make him rest soundly. 

Brooklyn smiled out of no reason, he shifted his head and his eyes fell on Dianna’s hand. 

She would be nervous as well. 

Brooklyn appeared to be feeling better a bit, and his long fingers tenderly tapped on the arm of the couch. 

"Would you like to lay down with me constantly, including tonight?" 

Brooklyn appeared to grin, with a purposeful smile at the edge of his lips. 

He had as of late found that this lady next to him, in spite of the fact that she liked to pretend, but still would get mad for specific things. 

For instance, presently, after he finished speaking, Dianna resembled a little hedgehog, and at this point, she was not able to stay calm anymore. 

"Mr. Powell, that would only happen in your dream!" The slim leaf-liked eyebrows were raised high, as she looked angry but looked flirtatious. 

Dianna would not realize how coquettish her look was right now. 

"The effect of the perfume I made for you before might need you to test it yourself when you are back. The effect may change sooner or later, and after the dozing effect dies down, I'll help you make another one." 

Dianna said as she took out the perfume from the bureau and gave it to Brooklyn. 

"The perfume I made would assure you a long period of soothing rest, in exchange of not participating in the competition. You would definitely be the one who was benefited, wouldn’t you, Mr. Powell?" 

Brooklyn didn't hurry to answer Dianna and was playing with the perfume bottle in his grasp between his fingers. 

The extremely small container was containing around thirty milliliters of perfume.

"Just a tiny bottle?" Brooklyn said after about a minute of tinkering with the motion.

The edges of Dianna's mouth twitched just a little.

She wasn’t a perfume producer, thirty milliliters wasn’t little for her.

"Don't worry, Mr. Powell, as long as you think the result is excellent, I’ll prepare the second bottle for you!" Dianna softly rolled her eyes at him.

…

as he was tapping his

was still on, he couldn't help but softly knock on the door and inquire, "Mr. Powell,

halt on the keyboard, and his long fingers rested on his

signalled him to looked aside,

and looked aside. He saw Dianna slept on the

would have to stay here tonight

that Brooklyn pressed the last word then turned off the

picked up the suit, put it over himself, stepped in front of Dianna, and tapped his finger on the

and met Brooklyn’s eyes before realizing her error and slowly became

get off work," Brooklyn

weary today. As she returned to the office, she fell asleep immediately, but she did not expect that

after you use it tonight, remember to tell me. If the usage of the effect is not satisfactory, please let me know so that I may improve the

voice had a sleepy tone

was puzzled

Powell and Anna

and

Dianna’s deep eyes and there was

a few drops to the air

Brooklyn gave the order.

by Brooklyn, the maid nodded and placed the perfume

been suffering from insomnia for six years and

was obvious this bottle was not Mirabelle’s, and she was

and returned after finishing everything and said, "Mr.

on the bed as he closed

say anything further

Mirabelle tightened

the air purifier, which he presumably just got today." The

Mirabelle was shocked.

moved her lips: "Is there a fresh perfume? How could I have missed this? How

a feeling

her tone softened again: "I mean if the origin of Brooklyn’s perfume is

find a

also what the young master requested, Miss Moss, if you are worried, you may go to the

and softly knocked on

you there? I'm Mirabelle, and I'd want to talk