Chapter 412
Elmer watched as a sharply dressed man hurried out of his car and ran over to Jonathan–clearly his assistant.
Not until the deep blue Bentley carrying Jonathan finally pulled away did Elmer let out a sigh of relief.
He pulled out his phone, typed a quick “Good night” to Niamh, and then drove off.
Niamh had just confirmed that Lana made it home safely when Elmer’s WhatsApp popped up.
A simple “Good night,” yet somehow, it soothed the foul mood Jonathan had left
her in.
She wrote back to Elmer, then climbed into bed and switched off the lamp.
The bedroom was pitch black, but sleep refused to come.
Jonathan’s words kept echoing in her mind-
“Believe it or not, I came to see you tonight… just because I wanted to see you.”
Niamh rolled over, stubbornly willing herself to sleep.
Maybe Jonathan really did want to see her. But it was just as true that she had no desire to see him.
For the next couple of weeks, Niamh was run off her feet–exhausted, but with
results to show for it.
Apart from The Thomas Group, every other investor in Marina’s company pulled
out.
In a matter of days, Marina’s business shrank dramatically, its assets shrinking by
the hour.
Niamh knew perfectly well–Jonathan would never abandon Marina.
If The Thomas Group wanted to keep hauling around that dead weight, so be it. She was more than happy to watch from the sidelines.
Tonight was The Thomas Group’s centennial gala.
It was well past seven, and Niamh was still holed up in her office, hunched over her sketches.
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The new product line, a collaboration with FY, was stalled–she’d hit a creative wall.
The “Piano” collection had been a massive success, inspired in part by Elmer’s accident.
This time, Niamh hoped inspiration wouldn’t come from someone else’s misfortune. She wanted her next design to surpass “Piano,” to surpass herself.
The Thomas Group’s grand hall blazed with light and laughter. Glasses clinked, and the air buzzed with conversation.
All the company’s upper and middle management were present, along with government officials, business leaders, partners, and clients–the guest list was impressive.
Clifford, the Thomas family patriarch, was there too, with Sprague beaming at his side.
At least here in Aldonia–especially in Aldenville–The Thomas Group’s position was unshakable.
The mood was festive, the crowd buoyant, the host on stage brimming with enthusiasm. Every guest wore a smile, caught up in the excitement.
Everyone, that is, except Prescott, who sat like a cat on hot bricks.
He kept sneaking glances at Jonathan.
From the start of the evening, Jonathan had been scanning the room, clearly searching for someone.
The longer he looked, the colder his expression became, until the icy edge in his demeanor was impossible to miss.
Prescott knew exactly who Jonathan was looking for.
On the centennial night–such a momentous occasion–only one shareh..er was conspicuously absent.
At the creative arts complex, Niamh was chewing on her pen when her phone started to vibrate. She glanced at the caller ID.
Back at the gala, Jonathan stood with his phone pressed to his ear, listening to one ring after another.
Then the call cut off.
Scowling, Jonathan dialed again.
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Chapter 412
Another rejection.
Just as Niamh thought he’d try a third time, a WhatsApp notification popped up:
I’ve already sent Prescott to pick you up. If you don’t come, I’ll fire him.
