“Niamh!” Jareth finally roared, seeing her defiant attitude.
The woman had just gotten out of bed and was already lounging on the sofa again. As an assistant, didn't she know her morning duties? Why had he ever hired her?
Niamh was lying on the sofa because her stomach was starting to cramp. She pressed a hand to her abdomen and grumbled, “Mr. Bragg, could you please lower your voice?”
“Niamh, remember your place!” he snapped.
“Hmm?”
“As an assistant, shouldn’t you be asking if your boss has had breakfast yet?” Jareth continued, his voice sharp.
Niamh quickly sat up, looking embarrassed. “Mr. Bragg, I’ll order something for you right now!”
“Don’t bother,” he replied curtly.
“Why not?”
“We’ll eat downstairs.”
“Mr. Bragg, I don’t feel like eating breakfast,” Niamh said. “Can’t you just go by yourself?”
Jareth’s anger flared. “Niamh, you’re my assistant! Even if you’re not eating, you should be by my side. Didn’t Rhea teach you anything?”
Niamh reluctantly got to her feet.


Verify captcha to read the content
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: I Owe the Tyrant Four Little Heirs