Mr. Powell Is Hunting for His Wife novel Chapter 13

Fearing that she might remember it wrong, Mirabelle took out the perfumes Diana left. Mirabelle was then convinced that the perfume Anna made was exactly the same as the perfumes Diana left.

Since the perfume Anna made was the same as Diana’s, then Mirabelle won’t need to be frugal on the usage.

Brooklyn liked the scent of the perfume, and Mirabelle will make all her clothes smelled exactly like this perfume.

Mirabelle summoned the maid and passed her a bottle of perfume, “Spray it all over my clothes.”

The maid sprayed the perfume onto all Mirabelle’s clothes in the closet.

Mirabelle smiled in satisfaction after examining her closet.

Mirabelle didn’t know why the perfume Diana left could relieve Brooklyn’s insomnia, but as long as she had the perfume Anna made now, she could do the same for Brooklyn and kept him with her.

After all, who else could resolve Brooklyn’s insomnia other than Mirabelle now?

Nobody!

And it was all she took to be the young mistress of the Powell family.

“Prepare the bathroom for me. I want to take a milk bath.” Mirabelle said softly, “inform me when Brooklyn comes home. I don’t like the water being too warm, it is not good for my skin. Don’t forget to add on some rose essential oil. Spray some perfume on my bathrobe too.”

Mirabelle wanted to be ready and wait for Brooklyn to arrive home.

It was already late night. The moon was bright in the sky, and only a few stars were blinking.

Mirabelle wore a conservative white turtleneck cotton sleeping robe. Her hair was half-dried and tied into a loose bun.

“Hasn’t Brooklyn come home yet?” Mirabelle was nervous. She looked at her phone once every minute and was waiting from 5 pm until 10 pm, but Brooklyn hadn’t come home yet.

“Mr. Powell hasn’t come back yet,” the maid kept running from upstairs to downstairs just to inform Mirabelle of Brooklyn’s whereabouts.

Mirabelle waved her hand, “Inform me when he is back.”

Brooklyn was giving her cold shoulders, and it was getting worse by days. Rumour has it that they were getting married, but when Mirabelle brought up the topic, Brooklyn became sulky and warned her not to be a busybody.

It was her last resort to use Anna’s perfume to get back Brooklyn’s attention.

If it didn’t work…

“Ms. Moss, Mr. Powell is back,” the maid quickly ran into Mirabelle’s room and informed her when she saw a black Maybach drove into the car porch.

Mirabelle was excited. She tidied her sleeping robe, “Do I look pretty?”

“Of course!” The maid understood that she had to say something that pleased Mirabelle once she took her money.

Mirabelle asked the maid to bring her a handmade cashmere shawl after consideration. After wearing it, Mirabelle looked like a newlywed wife waiting for her husband to come home.

Mirabelle pursed her lips and gently left the room. She waited for Brooklyn in the living room.

“Welcome home, Mr. Powell,” the caretaker took the coat Brooklyn handed over, then fold it on his arm. He bowed, “Do you want some supper? The kitchen is ready for your order.”

Brooklyn took a glance at the caretaker and said softly, “No. Send a cup of coffee to the study room.”

Mirabelle knew Brooklyn would head to the study room when he got back. She already ordered the kitchen to prepare a cup of Klatch Coffee. Mirabelle served the coffee to Brooklyn like a virtuous wife, “Brooklyn, it must be very exhausting at work. I made a cup of your favourite coffee. Take a sip?”

Brooklyn stopped. He turned around and looked at Mirabelle, who was approaching him.

Brooklyn could smell the light scent from Mirabelle as she walked over.

Mirabelle smiled. Brooklyn must have recognized the scent she was wearing.

The next second, Brooklyn frowned. When Mirabelle got closer and about to touch Brooklyn, he flipped the cup Mirabelle was holding.

The expensive antique cup fell onto the marble tile and shattered into pieces.

“Brooklyn, what’s wrong?” Mirabelle didn’t expect Brooklyn to react like this towards her loving gesture. Why was Brooklyn furious?

There were tears in Mirabelle’s eyes. It was like she was wrongly accused.

Mirabelle’s face turned pale. She looked pitiful.

Brooklyn frowned, and there was disgust in his eyes. He wanted to head to the study room, but after he took a few steps, he stopped and turned around, “You don’t need to come to my room tonight.”

“What?” Mirabelle panicked.

The reason Mirabelle could stay in Brooklyn’s house was that Brooklyn couldn’t live without her.

Without her, Brooklyn couldn’t sleep at all.

Now Brooklyn asked her not to go to his room. Did that mean her role was no longer meaningful for him?

“Brooklyn, is it about the coffee? This is my first time making coffee. Maybe it’s not good enough…” Mirabelle muttered. She spoke softly in a crying tone.

Brooklyn took a glance at Mirabelle, “Stop using the perfume you are wearing now. It is disgusting.”

Mirabelle’s face turned pale.

Her world spun.

What did Brooklyn say?

Her perfume was disgusting? How was it possible? Anna made it according to the perfume Diana left. Mirabelle only dared to use it after she tried it and knew it was exactly the same as Diana’s perfume.

“Brooklyn, are you feeling unwell? It is the same perfume. It is the one you like,” Mirabelle struggled. Brooklyn stopped and scolded her when she tried to approach.

“Mirabelle, you can leave if you don’t want to be here.” Brooklyn never acted harshly to Mirabelle, but the perfume she was wearing disgust him and made him want to puke.

“This is the last warning. Never ever let me smell that scent again,” Brooklyn warned Mirabelle coldly and headed straight into the study room.

Mirabelle was left miserably in the luxurious living room.

What happened?

The perfume was right, but why Brooklyn was furious?

Shouldn’t Brooklyn be obsessed with me?

Mirabelle bit her lips. The pitiful face filled with anger.

Mirabelle went into her room after a few minutes. She took out her laptop and found Anna’s email address.

Anna took Mirabelle’s money, but the perfume didn’t help Mirabelle won Brooklyn’s heart over. Instead, it made him hated Mirabelle.

“What is wrong with your perfume? Did you add something else to it? Why didn’t it work?”

Diana was in her bathroom after a shower. She laid cosily on her couch and opened her laptop.

Diana chuckled as she saw the email Mirabelle sent.

It seemed like Brooklyn learned how special her perfume was.

The perfume Diana made was no different for ordinary people.

However, for those who had a heightened sense of smell and that was a different story.