Tonight, Preston’s attitude toward Susy brought Niamh a wave of unexpected freshness.
She never would have imagined that one day, the person helping her collect a debt from Susy would be Preston.
Normally, Preston came off as a devil–may–care playboy, but he wasn’t some good–for–nothing layabout. Since taking over the Grand Riverview Hotel, he’d buckled down and met with each of the original staff, one by one.
During those conversations, he’d stumbled across the story of how, back when Niamh was broke, she’d worked odd jobs at the hotel–how Susy had bullied her, splashing wine in her face and forcing her to crack crab shells by hand until she’d hurt herself.
Just hearing it made Preston feel suffocated.
Now, as the new owner of the Grand Riverview Hotel, he’d learned that Susy herself was working off a debt here, and he couldn’t resist the urge to give her a taste of her own medicine.
“I wasn’t much help to you back then–too little, too late. But I still want to help you vent your anger,” Preston said, his usual careless grin flickering back into place.
Niamh lowered her gaze, unexpectedly moved. She had never thought Preston would go this far for her.
“By the way, Preston, do you wear any jewelry? Anything you like in particular?” she asked.
“Are you planning to give me something?” Preston shot up from his seat, excitement lighting up his eyes in a way Niamh had never seen before.
Just then, Susy arrived with a bottle of wine. “Your 1982 Lafite, sir,” she announced, her voice flat and professional.
“Would you like me to open it now?”
Niamh couldn’t help but remember saying those exact same words herself, back when she wore the server’s uniform.
She thought of what Preston had said to her once: “What goes around, comes around.”
What happened next played out just like before–except this time, it was Susy who
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Chapter 452
ended up with wine spilled all over her.
“What a shame. Such a good bottle of wine, Niamh said calmly, clinking glasses with Preston as they watched Susy run off to the staff restroom, hands pressed over her face.
Susy looked pitiful, but Niamh felt no sympathy. If Susy hadn’t treated her so cruelly back then, she wouldn’t be suffering the same humiliation now.
Niamh took another sip of the vintage wine. The 1982 Lafite really did taste extraordinary.
In the staff restroom, Susy sobbed for a long time. Her eyes swelled up like plums, her voice gone hoarse. She couldn’t let anyone see her like this–she looked just as much of a mess as she did with wine dripping down her face.
Even now, she couldn’t believe how far she’d fallen.
Just a few months ago, she’d been a real estate heiress–living in luxury, dripping with gold, the world at her feet.
Now, shaking and biting her lip until she drew blood, she could barely recognize
herself.
By the time Susy finally emerged from the restroom, it was late. She rummaged through her locker for some makeup to salvage her appearance, but just as she reached for her bag, her phone rang.
The caller ID flashed: Marina.
***
Sunrise crept over Verdant Lake Estates, casting golden light across the manicured
lawns.
The Thomas family’s housekeepers and chef had already been bustling about for hours, but Marigold was still dissatisfied. She stood with her hands on her hips, barking instructions and criticizing every detail.
“This dish is all wrong–not as good as Niamh’s…” she started to say, but quickly snapped her mouth shut.
“Ramona and the others will be here soon. Don’t mention Niamh,” Sprague reminded her quietly.
Today, they were hosting the Quinns for a little get–together at the villa.
But so far, Jonathan was nowhere to be found.
