Chapter 462
Up ahead, at Preston’s insistence, Niamh pinned the brooch she’d designed herself onto the lapel of his suit.
Preston’s cheeks flushed crimson, and he looked so delighted he was on the verge of tears.
Marina slipped her arm through Jonathan’s and smiled sweetly.
“Jonathan, shouldn’t we go over and take a look? It seems Preston just got a gift.”
This time, Jonathan didn’t shake off her hand.
Marina’s lips, glossy with pink balm, curved in satisfaction. She knew it-whenever Jonathan was mad at Niamh, he never turned her down.
So, arm in arm, Jonathan and Marina strolled over to where Preston
stood.
“Preston, that brooch is stunning. Is it a token of love from Niamh?” Marina teased, her tone playful and just loud enough for the nearby guests to hear.
At once, a hush spread through the crowd, followed by a flurry of whispers and sideways glances.
Preston’s blush crept all the way to his neck. “What? No, Marina, don’t say things like that!” he protested, practically stammering. “It’s just a
thank-you gift.”
Niamh’s tone was cool and emphatic. “It’s just a thank-you.”
But before she could say more, Jonathan’s voice cut in, soft but unmistakably pointed.
“Afraid I’ll get the wrong idea, are you?”
Niamh shot him a look. Honestly, she was more concerned about the
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other guests than Jonathan’s feelings-why did he always make it about himself?
“So, what did you do for her to earn such gratitude?” Jonathan asked.
Just then, Michael swooped in, eager to join the conversation.
“It was nothing, really,” Preston admitted. “I just helped her give Susy Fraser a taste of her own medicine.”
Michael pouted, feigning indignation. “Hey, I helped you deal with Susy, too! Where’s my thank-you?”
Niamh gave a resigned little laugh, catching on to Michael’s game.
“Alright, what kind of thank-you would you like?”
“A ring,” Michael declared, grinning.
“Sure,” Niamh agreed without missing a beat.
Michael added with a sly smile, “Matching rings.”
“Huh?” Niamh tilted her head, her eyes narrowing in confusion. Matching rings from Michael? Was he planning to propose to someone?
Michael flashed a mischievous glance at Jonathan, then stepped back, clearly enjoying himself.
Jonathan’s expression darkened. As Niamh turned to leave, he suddenly spoke up.
“I want a gift, too.”
Niamh paused, genuinely puzzled.
“Surely Mr. Thomas doesn’t want a thank-you gift as well?”
It was true Jonathan had played a major role in toppling the Fraser family, but Niamh felt no real gratitude towards him. Her gaze drifted past Jonathan to land briefly on Marina, who stood by his side, feigning innocence.
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Marina chimed in, her voice sugary sweet.
“Niamh, did you forget? Jonathan’s birthday is coming up. I ordered his present three months in advance.”
Niamh froze, caught off guard. That tiny reaction was all Jonathan needed to see-it stabbed at him, sharp and unexpected.
“Sorry,” Niamh replied coolly. “I forgot. If Mr. Thomas would like a birthday gift, I’ll have my assistant arrange something.” With that, she turned and walked away.
Her figure was elegant and graceful, every step radiating poise—but also a chill that lingered in the air behind her.
Jonathan remembered the three years they’d been married. Every
birthday, Niamh would cook a feast of his favorite dishes and handcraft a present just for him.
He was already wealthy beyond measure, with nothing left to buy, So Niamh would knit scarves, sculpt pottery, bake him cakes-thoughtful, personal gestures he’d dismissed at the time as childish, like gifts exchanged between schoolkids.
For Niamh’s birthday, in contrast, he’d always given her extravagant luxuries-designer clothes, shoes, handbags, jewelry. What woman wouldn’t want those? He never had to choose or even remember the dates; his assistant, Prescott, took care of everything.
And now…it was his turn to accept a birthday present from an assistant.
A tight ache twisted in Jonathan’s chest.
Just then, the doorbell rang-a delivery had arrived. It was a basket of live river crabs, and the delivery girl was none other than Susy.
