I Owe the Tyrant Four Little Heirs novel Chapter 47

The first note read: “Sir, I hope the meal was to your liking. Please remember to leave a five-star review!”

The second: “Sir, is there anything in particular you’d like me to make?”

And the third: “Sir, a friendly reminder: it’s not healthy to eat too much late at night. It’s bad for your waistline and your health.”

Jareth read them, and a smile unconsciously tugged at the corner of his mouth. The notes were a bit chatty, but not annoyingly so.

He thought for a moment, then picked up a pen. On the first note, he drew five stars. On the second, he wrote, “Tortellini.” And on the third, “Noted.”

As he left the kitchen and walked through the living room, he spotted a small pink notebook on the coffee table.

It must belong to the cleaner. He was about to head to his room, but curiosity got the better of him. He picked up the notebook and sat down on the sofa.

He opened it to the first page, where a line of neat, elegant handwriting greeted him: A dream is the destination of a successful life! Keep going!

Jareth’s eyes narrowed. This cleaner had ambition.

He turned the page and was surprised to find a hand-drawn design for children’s clothing. It depicted a little girl with curly hair wearing a pink and white plaid long-sleeved shirt, a white knee-length pleated skirt, and matching plaid knee-high socks. Notes on the side specified the target age range and the type of fabric.

The sketch was impressive. The character’s posture and expression were well-executed, and the color choices were perfect. This wasn’t just a cleaner with ambition; she had talent.

He continued flipping through the pages. There were dozens of designs, for both boys and girls, each with a unique and creative flair.

After a moment of contemplation, Jareth took out his pen and wrote a few words at the bottom of the first page: May your dream come true.

Jareth had just finished his shower when his phone rang. It was the butler from Bragg Manor.

“Mr. Bragg—”

“What is it?” Jareth cut him off coldly.

“Mr. Bragg, your grandfather’s birthday is next Wednesday. He would like you to come home for the celebration.”

Jareth refused without a second thought. “Tell him I’ll send a gift, but I won’t be there.”

He hung up before the butler could protest.

The car crash five years ago had been his uncle’s doing, but his grandfather had protected him. He had knelt on the floor and begged Jareth to let his uncle go, all for the sake of the Bragg Group.

His family of three had been reduced to one overnight, and his grandfather had asked him to forgive a murderer.

Nearly every night, he dreamed of his parents, covered in blood, trapped beneath the wreckage.

Ping.

A notification on his phone broke through his dark thoughts. It was from Niamh.

What did she want now, bothering him so late at night? Hadn’t she had enough torment for one day?

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