They were trying to pry information about Jonathan from her, just to decide whether they should marry off their handpicked foster daughter, Ramona Quinn.
A cold, mocking smile flickered across Niamh’s lips.
She’d actually thought, after all these years, that her birth parents had finally grown
a conscience.
A dull ache pressed against her chest.
In the end, whether it was her parents or Jonathan, everyone had only ever approached her for the sake of someone else.
“Jonathan’s charming, successful. Whoever marries him will be happy,” Niamh said lightly. She’d barely finished when Carlotta pressed on:
“If he’s so wonderful, why did you two get divorced?”
Because Jonathan never loved her.
Because Jonathan had destroyed their unborn child with his own hands.
“You could’ve found out with even the most basic investigation… Back in Aldonia, I was dragged through the mud online, accused of cheating, called a homewrecker. The Thomas family made sure to cut all ties with me.”
“I know you’d never do something like that,” Carlotta said softly, reaching out to
take Niamh’s hand.
Niamh pulled away before she could make contact.
Believe her? No one in the Quinn family had ever believed her.
“Mrs. Quinn, there’s no legal relationship between us,” Niamh said, her tone measured and deliberate. Immediately, Carlotta’s eyes filled with tears.
Hayes stepped in just in time, changing the subject.
“The Coralis government’s/launching a new project. Would you be interested?”
“Oh?” Niamh arched an eyebrow. “What kind of project?”
Seeing Hayes successfully pique Niamh’s interest, Carlotta finally let out a sigh of relief. She’d been too impatient, trying to meddle in her daughter’s love life, but Niamh had been cold and distant as ever.
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Thankfully, her husband knew how to handle things. Business talk, project negotiations–this was the only way they could maintain any connection with Niamh, and clearly, it worked.
After dinner with Hayes and Carlotta, Niamh returned to Aldenville.
She’d thought the meal would be meaningless, just a social obligation, but to her surprise, she’d discovered something new.
No sooner had she arrived back in the country than a message came through from one of her employees: the acquisition was complete.
A sly smile tugged at Niamh’s lips. She spun the steering wheel sharply, and her white BMW veered onto another road.
Meanwhile, at Marina’s studio-
The bank’s collections manager had already arrived, notary in tow, to begin the
asset seizure.
“No–this is my company, my life’s work–you can’t take it!” Marina tried to block the manager, only to be pulled aside.
“Oh, he absolutely can.”
Marina whipped around at the sound of that voice and saw Niamh, calm and radiant, standing in the doorway.
“Because you’re bankrupt,” Niamh added, her tone casual, but the words hit Marina like a sledgehammer.
Eyes red and wild, Marina glared at her, jaw clenched, but all she could do was watch as Niamh basked in her triumph.
This time, the collections manager wasn’t Darius. He didn’t know Marina, but he knew Niamh.
“Ms. Rivers…
Just then, two more people/arrived.
Marina recognized them they were Niamh’s people.
Lily and Olive, once Marina’s closest friends, looked from her to the sealed studio, faces drained of color. Neither of them dared speak to Niamh the way they used
- to.
“Ms. Rivers, these are all the design drafts,” the manager said, handing over every
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Chapter 490
last sketch they’d collected from the studio.
All the color drained from Marina’s face.
“Those are mine!” she cried, lunging for them, but Niamh shoved her aside without
a second thought, sending her sprawling to the floor.
A
