Jonathan’s voice was as calm and measured as ever, his tone cool and detached though his manners toward her were nothing short of gentlemanly.
Yet Niamh couldn’t shake the strange sense of pressure in the air–a heaviness that prickled at her nerves.
It felt as if Jonathan was angry, though he gave no outward sign.
Niamh didn’t ask questions. She simply focused on her meal in silence.
The only people at the dining table were the two of them. Her grandfather had always been an early riser and had already finished breakfast.
Afterward, Niamh exchanged a quick farewell with Clifford and left the old manor ahead of the others.
Right now, she had more pressing matters than the divorce papers Jonathan had given her. Important work demanded her full attention.
Luminous Divas Fashion Week had begun requesting blueprints and samples from its invited designers.
To participate in the high–profile jewelry fashion week, Niamh needed to prepare at least one complete collection, with six to eight original pieces.
Quantity was never the challenge. The real test was how to stand out in a room full of shining stars.
At this stage, inspiration was in short supply, and Niamh refused to let herself be distracted by anything else.
Thomas Manor.
Jonathan knocked on the door of Clifford’s study.
“Grandpa, it’s me.”
He stood before Clifford, who sat in a finely carved antique chair, and instinctively knew what his grandfather wanted to discuss.
“Jonathan, is it true you’re divorcing Nia?” Clifford asked, straightforward as ever.
Jonathan hesitated for a moment, then shook his head.
A spark of hope flashed in Clifford’s eyes.
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“It’s Niamh who wants the divorce,” Jonathan said, his voice steady and certain. That glimmer in Clifford’s eyes faded at once.
“You’re not seriously going to blame all this on Nia, are you?” Clifford pressed,
“Of course not.”
“Then do you even realize what you did wrong?”
Jonathan didn’t answer, his silence filling the room.
Clifford let out a heavy sigh. “You run around town with one woman after another, and you’ve driven your devoted wife to the brink. How on earth did I end up with such a disappointing grandson?”
He slammed his palm down on the desk, making the entire study tremble.
Compared to Clifford’s outburst, Jonathan remained humble, though a chill crept into his expression.
“Grandpa, I never—”
“Don’t you dare lie to me!” Clifford snapped, grabbing a heavy paperweight and hurling it at Jonathan’s feet.
Even in his anger, Clifford couldn’t bring himself to actually hurt his favorite grandson. The paperweight landed with a dull thud by Jonathan’s shoes.
“You think I don’t know what’s going on? That woman Marina–you’re with her all the time, arm in arm, acting like a couple. I don’t care whether you actually cheated or not. Looking at you two, how could Nia not be heartbroken?”
“Marina was my first love-”
“And Nia is your wife!” Clifford cut in sharply.
“That’s why I never let anyone else take Niamh’s place.”
“You really think all Nia cares about is being Mrs. Thomas? Do you think that title means anything to her?”
Jonathan fell silent.
Clifford’s anger seemed to drain from him all at once. He was getting on in years, and if he could help it, he’d never have to meddle in his grandchildren’s marriages.
“Jonathan,/ I told you three years ago–Nia is the one who truly loves you. Not Marina, who left you, threatened you, and kept testing you. Maybe she was your
first love, the one you clung to back when you were both in that juvenile home. But
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people change.”
Clifford had lost count of how many times he’d given Jonathan this same lecture in the study. Every time, it was about the same thing
Grandfather and grandson argued for ages–or rather, Clifford lectured for ages while Jonathan barely said a word. At last, Clifford could only sigh in defeat
“Just answer me this,” Clifford said wearily. “Do you even want Me Sec
Jonathan stayed silent.
“You must understand what Nia really wants is your love. Can you give that to her?”
