I Owe the Tyrant Four Little Heirs novel Chapter 59

Niamh’s eyes lit up instantly.

One request?

“Anything?” she asked tentatively, her mind racing. The first thing that popped into her head was the fifty-thousand-dollar debt. It would be a dream if he would just forgive it.

As if reading her mind, Jareth spoke again. “Forgetting the debt is out of the question. You will pay back every single cent.”

Niamh fell silent. It was like the man was living inside her head. Alright, then maybe a job transfer? To the design department?

“You don’t have the qualifications to be a designer, so don’t even think about it,” Jareth said, cutting off her thought before it could fully form.

Again, she was left speechless. How did he even know she wanted to be a designer? This man seemed to know everything.

Jareth knew, of course. He often saw her from his window, loitering near the design department with a look of pure excitement, sometimes even muttering critiques of their work under her breath.

“Well, if that’s a no and that’s a no… what about a raise?”

“A raise is also out of the question. You’ve only been here for three days.”

She couldn’t have any of the things she actually wanted. Why even offer to grant her a request?

“Well, thank you so much, Mr. Bragg!” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I was just doing my job as a translator. ‘Instrumental’ is too strong a word. As for your offer, you can forget it. I’m a simple person, content with what I have. I have no requests.”

A dark current swirled in Jareth’s deep-set eyes.

He pressed the speaker button on his desk phone.

“Finance? This is Jareth. When you process this month’s payroll, add a twenty-dollar bonus for Niamh.”

Even Ms. Weston in finance thought she had misheard. She knew what Niamh had done today. Mr. Bragg, though often cold, was known for being fair with rewards and punishments. For a contribution this significant, she had expected a bonus of at least three thousand dollars. Twenty dollars? It was insulting.

Niamh didn’t know what to say. When she heard the number, her first impulse was to tell him to keep it. But then she reconsidered. Getting twenty dollars was better than yesterday, when she had ended up five hundred eighty-eight dollars further in debt.

“Thank you, Mr. Bragg,” she said with a fake smile. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll get back to work.”

As she turned to leave, Jareth spoke again. “From now on, if you want to nap during your lunch break, you can use the sofa in my office.”