Jonathan said nothing.
“You know as well as I do, Starpex has teamed up with several other firms to short The Thomas Group. If we leak some good news now, when their bets go south and they’re forced to cover, we’ll come out on top.”
“You do realize how much our stock’s surged lately, right? This is the worst possible time for you to divorce Niamh. In fact, you need to be seen with her more often–bring her to public events, keep The Thomas Group in the spotlight by riding her wave of popularity. I want Starpex and their little gang to lose everything!”
Sprague rattled off his grand plans in a rapid–fire stream, while Jonathan remained as silent as if the line had gone dead.
But Sprague knew Jonathan was still listening.
“Jonathan, in business, you use every card you’ve got. I’m not saying you can’t divorce Niamh. She’s not the quiet, obedient woman we wanted for the Thomas family anymore, I get that. But right now, she’s hot. Making it public that she’s your wife is good for The Thomas Group. Keep her close for now–when she’s no longer useful, cut her off. She’s just a woman. I trust you can handle that.”
As the call ended, Jonathan leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a moment.
Just then, a knock sounded at the office door.
“Mr. Thomas? It’s me.”
“Come in.”
-Prescott stepped inside and handed Jonathan two folders.
“These are the progress reports for the Joywave Bay project, and the research summary from DS StudioAl.”
“Alright.”
Jonathan didn’t take the files directly, simply gestured for Prescott to leave them on
his desk.
Prescott set the folders down, but instead of leaving, lingered quietly in front of the desk.
“Is there something else?” Jonathan asked, his tone cool.
1/2
“No, sir,” Prescott shook his head, hesitating. “I just thought… Mr. Thomas, maybe you’re pushing yourself too hard.”
“Do I look tired to you?”
“…A little.”
Jonathan let a faint, sardonic smile tug at his lips.
“You think a woman is wearing me out, is that it?”
“…No, not at all. I just hope you’ll take care of yourself, sir.”
That’s what Prescott said, but inwardly, the question echoed: Is it really just a woman?
“Actually, Prescott, book me a table at Moonlight Terrace tonight. Seven o’clock.”
“Yes, sir.”
As Prescott left the office, he couldn’t help but wonder.
Moonlight Terrace was Aldenville’s newest three–star Michelin spot–tables there were nearly impossible to get.
But if anyone could make a reservation, it was Prescott.
He just couldn’t guess who Jonathan planned to take tonight.
Marina? Or Niamh?
Ebonwood Hall.
Marina’s eyes were so puffy from crying she looked like she’d been stung by a swarm of bees.
“What does Jonathan even mean by this?” she sobbed. “He swears he give me a proper place in his life, but he still hasn’t divorced Niamh. Now everyone online knows Niamh is his wife, and The Thomas Group’s official page just confirmed it–basically announcing to the world that she’s Mrs. Thomas. How’s he supposed to divorce her after this? Niamh’s career is exploding, and now everyone’s praising Jonathan for having such good taste–marrying a beautiful, talented rising designer. Some people are even saying it’s The Thomas Group’s move into fashion! The stock price is soaring, and all anyone talks about is how Niamh brings him luck…”
Her voice cracked as she kept crying, shoulders shaking with humiliation.
“So now Niamh’s status as Mrs. Thomas is set in stone, but what about me? Who
am I supposed to be? Everyone’s seen me and Jonathan together, always side by side… now the whole world just thinks I’m the other woman!”
Marina’s voice was hoarse from crying.
Edna, sitting beside her, could barely hide her frustration.
“You’ve only got yourself to blame. I warned you, didn’t I? If you’d just listened and gotten Jonathan hooked on you–maybe even had his baby, you’d have had real leverage. Then you’d see if he dared not marry you!”
