Niamh had just settled into bed, hoping to catch up on some much–needed slee when a message from Jonathan lit up her phone:
Mind your own business. Starting tomorrow, you and I are nothing to each other
The sharp, icy words jolted her awake, banishing all traces of drowsiness. She reached up and touched the bandage on her forehead.
Strange. She’d covered the cut, but it somehow hurt more than before.
The Thomas Group.
CEO’s office.
Jonathan barely registered Prescott’s report until he noticed Marina holding his phone.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“Nothing, just some spam text. I deleted it for you,” Marina replied, handing the phone back.
Jonathan didn’t bother to check, simply placing it back on his desk.
Niamh had thought she’d sleep soundly, but her night was plagued by nightmares. She woke up several times, and by morning her head throbbed as if it might split
open.
She peeled off the bandage; the wound had scabbed over but still ached.
After freshening up with a touch of subtle makeup, she slipped on a tailored suit–something formal for the occasion.
Today was the day she and Jonathan would sign the divorce papers at city hall.
She felt even more solemn than when she’d gone to register their marriage.
Once she signed those papers, a ten–year love story would finally end.
Niamh unlocked the private photo album on her phone.
That old picture was still there.
She should delete it.
She needed to delete it.
1/3
11:57
After several moments of hesitation, she pressed delete.
Then, just as quickly, she canceled it.
After the divorce, she told herself. She’d do it then.
She could admit it–she was never good at letting go.
She arrived at city hall ten minutes early.
Jonathan was already there.
This time, Prescott was driving. The car was new–a regal blue Bentley instead of the usual black Maybach.
As soon as Jonathan stepped out, Niamh hurried over, thrusting the three copies of the divorce agreement into his hands–her way of proving she’d already signed, she truly wanted this.
Her lips curved into a polite, distant smile.
Jonathan glanced down; sure enough, Niamh’s signature was on every page.
His own smile became strained.
Before they could even enter city hall, Prescott suddenly called out, “Looks like there are reporters over there.”
Niamh could see them too–several people with camera mics hustling toward them. Jonathan didn’t hesitate. He slid back into the car.
Prescott floored the accelerator, and the blue Bentley sped away.
Niamh stared after them, baffled.
They hadn’t even filed the paperwork yet!
Still, now was definitely not the time for a public divorce.
She had no idea why the press was here–were they after her and Jonathan?
She was a semi–public figure now, after all, and the last thing she wanted was to be ambushed by reporters at city hall.
Unlike Jonathan, she didn’t have a luxury car waiting, so she d
café.
She ordered coffee and scrolled through her phone.
ed into a nearby
11:57
Daniel was in trouble.
Riverside Properties had been caught dodging taxes–and even accused of embezzling public funds. And if that wasn’t enough, Daniel’s affairs with celebrities and influencers had come to light, his wife Elaine was filing for divorce, and he was facing prison time.
Niamh felt like the world had turned upside down.
Just a few days ago, Daniel and Elaine had seemed so untouchable.
And yet, even with all this scandal, Daniel hadn’t managed to top the trending news.
Now, the rumors about Niamh being the “other woman” had finally been taken down, but her name still dominated the headlines–this time as the number one trending topic:
Jonathan and Niamh have been married for years?!
11:57
