Chapter 90
Niamh had no interest in tangling with a foul–mouthed drunk.
But as soon as she tried to leave, the man grabbed her wrist in a rough, possessive grip.
“Hey, did I say you could go? You bumped into me and hurt me–aren’t you going to make it up to me?”
Niamh struggled to break free, but even though people walked by and saw her being hassled, no one stopped to help. She guessed this guy must be a regular around here.
“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this, dressed so uptight? Aren’t you hot? Let me help you out of those clothes.”
His hand reached for her collar, but Niamh twisted his wrist sharply and, seizing the moment, delivered a hard kick squarely between his legs.
His scream echoed down the hallway as Niamh bolted from the club, sprinting down the main street. She didn’t stop running until she reached a busy boulevard, the crowds surging all around her. Only then did she begin to calm down, certain the drunk wouldn’t dare follow her this far.
A shiver ran through her as the adrenaline faded.
She bitterly regretted ever setting foot in The Gatsby Club that night. Not only had she been humiliated, but she’d barely escaped being assaulted. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. The ache in her chest threatened to spill over, but she forced
herself to hold it in.
The next day, Jonathan didn’t show up at the office. Marina had called in sick as
well.
Rumors swirled: Jonathan and Marina had gone out on a date, or maybe Jonathan was taking her to try on wedding dresses. Whatever the story, as long as both of them were gone, everyone at the company assumed they were together.
Jade Peak House.
Jonathan lay sprawled on the king–sized bed in the master suite, nursing a pounding hangover.
“Jonathan, I made you some hangover soup. Drink it while it’s hot,” Marina said as she walked in, carrying a steaming bowl.
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Chapter 90
She wore a pale silk nightdress, her hair still damp and scented from a fresh shower. She helped Jonathan sit up, dipped a spoon into the soup, tested it against her tongue, then gently held it to his lips.
“Aren’t you going to work today?” Jonathan asked, voice raspy.
“I already called in sick. You drank so much last night–of course I’m staying to look after you!”
Jonathan grunted and sipped the soup. He finished the entire bowl, Marina patiently feeding him every spoonful.
When he was done, he murmured a quiet thank you and lay back down to sleep again.
Marina lingered by the bed for a while, then suddenly lifted the covers and slipped in beside him. Her silk nightdress was smooth and cool beneath the sheets.
Soon, the steady rhythm of Jonathan’s breath told her he’d fallen into a deep sleep. Disappointment flickered across Marina’s face.
Just then, her phone buzzed with a WhatsApp message:
joker: Got some good news for you. Want to hear it?
Marina: Not in the mood for your riddles.
joker: It’s about Niamh.
A slow smile spread across Marina’s lips, her eyes lighting up.
The Thomas Group.
After her lunch break, Niamh returned to her desk–only to find several men in uniform gathered around it.
“Excuse me, are you Niamh?”
“Yes, I am,” she replied, eyeing the badges they flashed.
“We’re with the Southborough Police Department. Someone reported you for assaulting a man last night at The Gatsby Club. We need you to come with us to answer a few questions.”
Under the curious stares and whispers of her coworkers, Niamh followed the
officers to the station.
7
The moment she stepped inside, she saw him–the same drunken man who’d harassed her in the club’s hallway the night before.
