Niamh felt as if someone had stomped hard on her heart.
She shoved Jonathan away with a sudden force.
Wine splashed from Jonathan’s glass, soaking his shirt and dripping down his tailored suit. The crisp white fabric was now stained, his jacket damp, but the calm, confident smile never left his lips.
Niamh glared at him, her hands clenched into tight fists.
It was always like this.
Jonathan could rattle her with just a few words, yet he himself remained unruffled, as if nothing could touch him.
Niamh bit down on her lower lip.
The commotion drew Peter and Marina from across the room.
Susy, standing with Julian, noticed how his eyes kept flicking toward the balcony, as if something–or someone–out there mattered more to him than the conversation at hand.
Curious, Susy followed his gaze.
She watched as Peter moved to stand protectively beside Niamh, while Marina hurried to Jonathan’s side.
Marina immediately produced a handkerchief, dabbing at Jonathan’s shirt and jacket, already sending a message to Prescott to fetch a fresh suit.
Peter gave Niamh a quick once–over, searching for any sign that Jonathan had crossed a line.
But Niamh’s clothes were in order, her hair unruffled. Only her pale face and the redness gathering in her eyes betrayed the storm inside her.
“Are you alright?” Peter asked gently.
“I’m fine,” she answered, though her chest still heaved with anger. Even she wasn’t sure if her fury was aimed at Jonathan–or herself.
Peter watched her for a moment, then turned to Jonathan. “I can cover the cost of Mr. Thomas’s suit.”
Jonathan’s expression didn’t change. He glanced at Niamh before looking back at
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Peter.
“No need,” Jonathan replied smoothly. “Niamh will take care of the cleaning for me.” Peter’s face darkened.
Niamh shot back, “Business not going well lately, Mr.. Thomas? Is that why you’re pinching pennies?”
Jonathan answered without missing a beat, “Actually, this suit was a gift from Marina. I’d hate to throw it away.”
Marina’s eyes flickered, but she didn’t contradict him. She hadn’t given him that suit–but if it bothered Niamh, she didn’t mind letting the lie stand..
Niamh tugged at Peter’s sleeve. “Let’s go.”
“Alright,” he agreed.
For a fleeting moment, Jonathan’s gaze lingered on Niamh’s hand, but only for a second.
Back inside the ballroom, Peter introduced Niamh to several influential figures in the world of jewelry collecting.
Then she overheard Liam Grant, the Guild’s chairman, offering Marina a challenge.
“Since Devon speaks so highly of you, I happen to have an opportunity that’s perfect for someone looking to shine,” he said.
Marina’s eyes lit up instantly.
“My wife and I have our anniversary next month. I’ve given her so much jewelry over the years, I think she’s grown bored of it all. I’d like you to design a piece that will truly surprise her. What do you say? Are you up for the challenge?”
“I’d love to, Chairman Grant. Absolutely,” Marina replied without hesitation.
“Chairman Grant, could you give me a chance as well?” Niamh spoke up, unable to hold back. She knew it might come off as rude, possibly even presumptuous–but she needed this opportunity.
When Marcus invested in her studio, he’d made it clear: she had to secure a spot at this year’s Luminous Divas Fashion Week.
She’d done her research. Every year, only two slots were given to new brands at Luminous Divas Fashion Week. One was already claimed by a new investor’s protégé.
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That meant just one spot remained.
And standing before her, Liam Grant, as president of the Gemstone Collectors‘ Guild, held the power to grant it.
All she needed was his recommendation–and she’d have her chance at Fashion
Week.
Liam Grant turned and regarded Niamh, sizing her up.
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