Chapter 231
Niamh Rivers frowned, her tone firm as she shot back, “An ex–husband is nothing compared to a true friend.”
Her words were crisp and decisive, but the flicker of guilt and inner conflict in her eyes did not escape Michael Burton’s notice.
Michael let out a cold chuckle, pouring himself another glass of whiskey over ice.
“You were never good enough for Jonathan Thomas. Divorce was a blessing in disguise for you.”
“I don’t need to be judged by someone I only met today.”
“Suit yourself.”
Michael downed his drink, then drove Niamh back to the TerraVita Recovery Center. Niamh had assumed he wouldn’t bother getting out of the car, but to her surprise, Michael stepped out and walked her all the way to the entrance.
“I’m leaving now, but I have a parting gift for you.”
His narrow eyes crinkled into half–moons, and there was an almost gentlemanly warmth to his smile.
“I don’t need any gifts from you.”
Niamh was no longer fooled by Michael’s charming façade.
He waggled a finger. “I insist. When I want to give a gift, you’ll take it.”
Before she could react, he kicked away Niamh’s cané.
She crashed to the ground with a painful thud.
Michael burst out laughing, doubling over at the sight.
“Now that’s an elegant pose. Tell me–surprised by your gift? Did I catch you off guard?”
He crouched down, his gaze locking with Niamh’s furious eyes. The smile faded from his face.
“If you ever dare to compete with Marina for a man again, or try to take what isn’t yours, next time, I’ll make sure you get a far nastier gift–maybe your own eyes in a box.”
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With that, Michael straightened up and strode out of the TerraVita Recovery Center, the picture of a wolf in sheep’s clothing, his silhouette deceptively refined.
Niamh managed to stand only with the help of a nurse.
She’d hated the idea of staying in this place, but after tonight, she figured she could live with it–as long as the state–of–the–art rehab equipment helped her leg heal faster.
The Thomas Group.
“I’m sorry, you can’t go in without an appointment.”
The young assistant did her best to block the uninvited guest, but he simply kicked open the managing director’s office door.
Inside, Jonathan looked up to see a man with wire–rimmed glasses stride in.
”
“Mr. Thomas, I’m so sorry, I-”
Jonathan waved her away. She ducked out, closing the door behind her.
“Michael, all these years and you still have no manners,” Jonathan said, face like
stone.
“And you still love to play the gentleman,” Michael shot back, pulling a cigarette from his pocket. He’d barely lit it before Jonathan plucked it from his lips and stubbed it out in the ashtray.
“No smoking in my office.”
Michael adjusted his glasses, letting out a derisive snort.
“Then why do you have an ashtray? Are you the only one allowed to smoke here?”
“It’s my office. My rules.”
Jonathan’s deadpan retort left Michael momentarily speechless.
“Say what you came to say, or I’ll have security show you out. Or maybe I’ll escort you myself.”
Michael knew Jonathan wasn’t bluffing. Back in high school, they’d gotten into more than one fight–Michael usually started them, and while the results were mixed, Jonathan had the better record overall.
“We’re not kids anymore. I don’t solve problems with my fists these days.”
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With that, Michael pulled a folded piece of paper from his trouser pocket and handed it to Jonathan.
“I brought you this. No need to thank me–I’m just generous like that.”
Jonathan studied the paper in silence, face unreadable, but Michael could see his knuckles whitening as he gripped the page.
“Add another ten percent… and tell me–do you think The Thomas Group will end up with my family’s name on the door?”
Michael leaned in, whispering close to Jonathan’s ear, then adjusted his glasses and left the office on his own.
Night fell, and TerraVita Recovery Center was hushed and still.
Niamh sat in her room, carefully setting gemstones one by one into the jewelry samples she was preparing for Luminous Divas Fashion Week.
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