I Owe the Tyrant Four Little Heirs novel Chapter 199

Three managers had already gotten an earful during the call.

But today, Jareth hadn’t yelled at her once. Before yesterday, any time he was scolding his subordinates, she would inevitably get caught in the crossfire.

When the meeting finally ended, Jareth turned to her and asked gently, “Are you thirsty, Ms. Lynn?”

What? He’s asking if she’s thirsty? What does that mean?

Jareth was already on his feet.

“What would you like to drink? Water, or coffee?” he continued.

“Wa-water, please,” Niamh stammered, unable to believe her ears.

It wasn’t until he placed a glass of water in front of her that she snapped out of her daze.

Was she dreaming? This felt completely unreal. Jareth Bragg was getting her a glass of water? That was supposed to be her job.

“No need to be so surprised, Ms. Lynn,” Jareth said, sipping his coffee as he watched her. “From now on, when we’re not at the office, we’re… friends.”

Friends?

The word felt alien to her. Ever since she started working at Jareth Media, he had treated her with anything but fairness. He exploited her, worked her like a slave, and criticized her constantly. If she weren’t so desperate for the money, she would have quit long ago. No one could stand such a volatile boss.

“What would you like for lunch today?” Jareth asked, glancing at the Rolex on his wrist.

What’s this now? Was he planning to cook lunch? No way. Even if he did, she wouldn’t dare eat it.

“I’ll cook,” Jareth announced. “But I can only make simple food.”

“Let me do it!” Niamh said quickly. “What would you like to eat, Mr. Bragg?”

She was too intimidated to eat a meal prepared by him. She knew her place.

Niamh replied. “I thought I could learn from you.”

“You’re too modest, Ms. Lynn.”

“What do you mean?”

“Keir already told me that his mommy can make all sorts of delicious food,” Jareth said conversationally as he placed a pot on the stove. “So I imagine making a simple pasta dish wouldn’t be too difficult for you.”

“Oh, that Keir,” Niamh said, blushing. “He exaggerates. Don’t believe him.”

There was something about seeing such a handsome, well-dressed, and immaculate man standing in a kitchen that elevated the entire space. The room, which usually had a homey, lived-in feel, suddenly looked more sophisticated and upscale.

While the pasta cooked, Jareth pan-fried a steak for himself and an egg for Niamh. To her surprise, the pasta was delicious, and the sunny-side-up egg was cooked perfectly, with a soft, runny yolk. It was just how the quadruplets and she loved it.

After a few bites of pasta, tears started to fall from Niamh’s eyes.