Being scolded by Edna left Marina feeling even more aggrieved.
The last time Edna had pulled her aside for a serious talk, she’d brought up the idea of drugging Jonathan.
Marina had refused..
Part of her still had faith in herself–she believed Jonathan would eventually give in to her. Back in high school, when they’d dated, Jonathan had never touched her. He’d said they were still just students and that he wanted to cherish her properly. Now, years later, nothing had changed.
She’d tried everything–subtle hints, not–so–subtle invitations, even moving into Jonathan’s house. Yet Jonathan still wouldn’t share a bed with her. She couldn’t just crawl into his bed and throw herself at him; that would make her seem desperate and cheap.
The result was that she and Jonathan had never so much as shared a single intimate moment.
Marina was desperate.
But she didn’t dare use drugs.
She knew Jonathan too well. He was sharp–if she tried something like that, he’d figure it out in an instant. Even if they did end up sleeping together, he wouldn’t marry her. He’d cut her off, because Jonathan would never tolerate being manipulated.
“Marina, take this.”
Edna pressed a small bottle of pills into her palm.
“I had a pharmacist I trust make this especially for you. Just one is enough, and it works gradually.”
Marina gripped the bottle so hard her knuckles turned white.
“I just don’t get what you’re so afraid of,” Edna chided her. “Even if Jonathan finds out, so what? He loves you! If you two end up together, isn’t that exactly what you want?”
Marina fell silent, listening to Edna’s blithe words.
She’d never told anyone–not even Edna–the truth.
1/3
14-26
The person Jonathan really loved was Rina.
“Marina, you need to seize your chance while you can. Right now, Niamh’s career is soaring, and people are saying she’s Jonathan’s wife. Doesn’t matter who started the rumor–the Thomas Group has already acknowledged her status. If you want that position, you’ll have to fight for it, by any means necessary…”
As Edna spoke, the tears in Marina’s eyes slowly dried up.
7:00 p.m.
Moonlight Terrace
Niamh only pulled out her phone to look up the restaurant when she reached the entrance. She’d noticed it was new–elegant, expensive–looking, definitely not a casual spot.
A quick search told her everything: the place had just been awarded three Michelin stars. It was a socialite hotspot–reservations were nearly impossible, no matter your wealth or connections.
She lingered outside for a long time, hesitating.
Jonathan had asked her to come. Well, not Jonathan himself–Prescott had called her, saying Jonathan needed to discuss something important.
At first, since Prescott had been the one to call, Niamh assumed it was business. But now, looking at the restaurant’s romantic ambiance, it seemed anything but.
For reasons she couldn’t quite explain, Niamh didn’t want to have dinner with Jonathan alone in a place like this.
She finally went in, ten minutes late. Jonathan was already waiting at the table.
He looked like he’d gone out of his way for this dinner. He’d changed o a different suit–not the one he wore at the office that day. It was still black, but much more refined, the cut and fabric far more formal.
In contrast, Niamh was the only woman in the restaurant not wearing evening
attire.
She walked over and reached for her chair, but Jonathan stood and pulled it out for
her.
She sat down across from him.
212
нар
“You look beautiful tonight,” Jonathan said.
