After Prescott parked the car, he followed behind Jonathan and Niamh, briefcase in hand.
Niamh glanced back, suspicion flickering in her eyes. “You brought me here for business?”
Jonathan turned to meet her gaze. “What else?”
“Were you hoping for a date or something?”
She caught the playful glint in his eyes and quickly looked away, embarrassed.
Jonathan’s lips curled into a charming, mischievous smile.
The three of them made their way into the grand hotel, with Prescott trailing behind. Unlike most upscale hotels, this one was decorated with a heavy touch of Eastern flair–dark wood panels, lantern–style lighting, and intricate latticework everywhere.
Jonathan Jed Niamh into a private suite. The outer room resembled an exclusive dining hall, complete with a massive round table and a glass lazy Susan at its center. Beyond that, the adjoining space looked more like a hotel suite, with a wardrobe‘ and a bed tucked in the corner.
“Mr. Thomas, you’re early as always!”
Niamh’s heart skipped a beat. She turned and saw Daniel approaching, his grin wide and unsettling. He looked perfectly healthy now, though a thin scar ran across his forehead.
Niamh wanted to bolt for the door.
Jonathan’s voice was calm, but his words were pointed. “Mr. Kingsley here is one of The Thomas Group’s key partners. You offended him last time. Tonight, you’d better offer a proper apology.”
The message was clear: don’t let personal grudges get in the way of business.
Reluctantly, Niamh took a seat at the table.
At first, Daniel and Jonathan stuck to business talk. Niamh quietly picked at her food, pretending to eat, though she barely touched a thing. Every so often, Daniel’s leering gaze drifted her way, making her skin crawl and killing what little appetite
she had.
Eventually, as the business discussion wound down, Daniel shifted his attention to
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her. “Miss Rivers, it’s no wonder you’re Mr. Thomas’s right hand. You put a man in the hospital, and not only did you not send so much as a gift, you didn’t even bother with an apology. Is that the company culture at The Thomas Group? Or is that just your personal style?” He laughed, but there was nothing friendly in his
tone.
Jonathan shot Niamh a sideways glance, cold and unreadable.
Niamh felt her heart sink. Tonight’s dinner was supposed to be about business, but now it was clear–Daniel was here to force an apology out of her. Jonathan knew it all along. That’s why he brought her.
Standing between a creep and her own husband, both playing their parts, Niamh gripped her wine glass so tightly her knuckles whitened. She stood up.
“Mr. Kingsley, you’re right. I shouldn’t have laid a hand on you last time. I owe you an apology. I’m sorry.”
Daniel’s self–satisfied grin widened as Niamh lifted her glass and took a drink.
But she didn’t stop there. “Honestly, I had no idea you were so fragile, Mr. Kingsley. Who would’ve thought a grown man could end up in the hospital after a tussle with a girl? My advice? If you don’t want to get hurt, maybe stop harassing women. Sometimes people get exactly what they deserve, and if karma finally catches up to you, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”
Daniel’s face tightened in surprise and anger–he hadn’t expected her to bite back, even as she apologized. He shot Jonathan a look, but Jonathan’s face was a blank mask, giving nothing away.
“Sharp tongue, Miss Rivers. I’m impressed,” Daniel said, his voice forced and brittle.
With Jonathan present, Daniel couldn’t lose his temper outright. Instead, he raised his glass toward Niamh. “Come on, Miss Rivers, let’s have a drink. No hard feelings, right? Life’s long, and I’m sure we’ll be seeing plenty more of each other.”
When Niamh hesitated, Daniel’s expression darkened. “What’s the matter, Miss Rivers? Too good to drink with me?”
At a table like this, with the pressure on, there was little she could do. Niamh filled her glass to the brim and braced herself.
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