His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 107

Before Niamh could even take a sip, Jonathan snatched the wine glass from her hand.

"She's just a junior employee. Isn't it beneath Mr. Kingsley to even associate with her?" Jonathan tossed back the drink in one gulp.

"Ah, you're right, you're right, Mr. Thomas," Daniel chimed in, raising his own glass. "I'll take a penalty drink then." He downed it quickly.

The two men continued their back-and-forth, taking turns with their glasses, while Niamh sat beside them, bored out of her mind.

Every time Daniel tried to coax more alcohol into her, Jonathan would intercept, blocking the attempt. Niamh never thought she'd see the day Jonathan would actually shield her from drinking. Then again, maybe he just wanted to avoid the hassle of dealing with her if she got drunk.

Just then, a waiter knocked on their private room door and brought in another dish.

"This one's just for you, Miss Rivers," Daniel announced with a flourish. "It's a special recipe—papaya simmered with a nourishing jelly. Great for your skin. Go on, give it a try."

When he saw Niamh hesitate, Daniel pressed, "What's wrong, Miss Rivers? Don't like my choice? Or is it too plain for your tastes?"

"That's not it at all," Niamh replied, picking up a spoon and taking a sip.

The soup was sweet and delicate, but the association with Daniel made her stomach turn.

Suddenly, Jonathan's phone rang. Niamh could clearly hear Preston Winslow's booming voice on the other end.

"Jonathan, it's bad—Marina's been in a car accident!"

Jonathan's expression changed instantly, worry flashing across his face—an emotion too raw to be faked. Niamh watched silently, the sweetness of the soup turning to ashes in her mouth.

Jonathan turned to Daniel. "Something urgent's come up. I'll have to end dinner here."

"Mr. Kingsley, isn't that enough?" Niamh protested. "Prescott is one of Mr. Thomas's most trusted assistants. If he can't work tomorrow, Mr. Thomas won't be pleased."

She moved to help Prescott up.

"Don't worry, Miss Rivers," Daniel replied, setting down his phone. "I'll make sure Assistant Prescott gets home safely." Two men appeared almost immediately, hauling Prescott away between them.

Niamh started to follow, but Daniel stepped in front, blocking her path.

"What's the meaning of this, Mr. Kingsley?" Alarm bells rang in her mind.

Daniel's face was flushed from drink, his eyes roaming over her with an unmistakable leer. "It's late, Miss Rivers. There's a bed right here—why not stay the night?"