“Ms. Lynn, I’m Mr. Bragg’s assistant, not a mind reader,” Usher said flatly. “I don’t know everything he’s thinking.”
With that, he turned and walked into his own office.
Rhoslyn bit her lip, frustrated.
Yesterday, Cormac had told her he’d be gone for three days on a business trip, yet he’d shown up again that very evening. If she had known, she would have found a way to get Niamh fired before he returned.
What infuriated her most was that when she’d asked Cormac what he and Niamh had talked about, he not only refused to tell her but had broken up with her on the spot. He’d tried to end things several times before, but she had always refused, clinging to the hope that he would come around.
Because she truly loved him. She had given herself to him completely and had even terminated three pregnancies for his sake, but he still wouldn't marry her. He’d always given her the same excuse: he would marry her the day he finally forgot Niamh.
Five years, and he still hadn’t forgotten. Now, with Niamh parading in front of him every day, he never would.
Countless times, when they were together and he was drunk, he would cry out Niamh’s name.
That shameless bitch! After what had happened, Rhoslyn had been certain Niamh would never show her face in Cliffhaven again. But five years later, here she was.
“Just you wait, Niamh. Just you wait.”
...
Niamh marched up to the imposing desk, her voice tight with anger. “Mr. Bragg, you wanted to see me?”
Jareth was writing something and didn't look up immediately. He finished his sentence, then slowly raised his head. His eyes, dark and chillingly cold, met hers, and a shiver ran down her spine.
How much could one person dislike another to look at them with such daggers in their eyes? If he hated her so much, why not just fire her? Why keep her around to clean toilets?


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