Both groups finished their meals at almost the exact same moment and ran into each other just outside the restaurant’s doors.
“Preston Winslow, Niamh…” Marina was the first to speak, her smile bright and eager.
“Jonathan and I were about to go shopping. Why don’t you two join us? A little walk is the perfect way to work off lunch.”
The invitation sounded harmless enough, but Niamh had no interest in spending more time with Marina and Jonathan.
“I’ll pass,” she replied, shaking her head.
“Oh, come on! My parents and Jonathan’s parents have finished their business talk, so they won’t be tagging along. It’s not often we run into each other like this—shopping together could be a nice way to get to know each other better…” Marina’s tone was warm, almost pleading.
But her real motive was obvious: she wanted Niamh to witness Jonathan’s extravagant generosity firsthand. And she was just waiting for the right moment to drop the news that Jonathan now referred to Niamh as his “ex-wife.”
When Niamh ignored her and turned to leave, Marina suddenly reached out and grabbed her wrist.
Niamh immediately shook her off. She didn’t use much force, but Marina had gripped her tightly—and then, taking advantage of the moment, she feigned a stumble, landing directly in Jonathan’s arms.
Jonathan caught her without missing a beat.
Meanwhile, Preston Winslow noticed the red mark on Niamh’s wrist. Without thinking, he gently took her hand in his, concern etched on his face.
Niamh froze in surprise, missing the way Jonathan’s expression darkened.
“Are you alright?” Preston asked softly.
“I’m fine,” Niamh replied, quietly pulling her hand back.
“Marina, isn’t that a bit much? Niamh’s wrist is all red,” Preston said, not bothering to hide his displeasure.
Marina hadn’t expected Preston to call her out in front of everyone. Tears welled up in her eyes instantly. “I didn’t—” she started, her voice trembling.
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