His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 218

“No.”

Jonathan shook his head. “I’m not going to the hospital.”

“What?” Marina stared at him in disbelief.

“I have something else to take care of first. I’ll head to the hospital once I’m done.”

His tone was calm, almost indifferent, leaving Marina guessing at his true feelings.

Niamh was in the ICU after a car accident, her life hanging by a thread—yet Jonathan was saying he had other matters to handle before even bothering to visit her?

It was shocking, but Marina couldn’t help feeling a secret surge of delight.

It looked like Jonathan really didn’t care about Niamh at all.

Not only did he not love her, he didn’t even seem to care if she lived or died.

Marina suppressed the urge to smile; laughing now would be completely inappropriate and only make Jonathan think less of her.

“Drive safe, Jonathan. If anything happens at the hospital, keep me posted, okay? You know I want to be there for you. If you need someone to stay with you, I’m more than happy to help. In a situation like this, the more support the better.”

Her tone was sincere. Jonathan nodded.

“Alright. I’ll let you know.”

The royal blue Bentley disappeared from sight, leaving Marina standing on the curb, arms crossed, unable to hide the satisfaction and glee bubbling up inside her.

“Serves her right,” she muttered under her breath.

Niamh, this time, I hope you never make it off that operating table.

Cupid’s Royal Wedding Estates.

Susy Fraser swept out of the dressing room, her gown gathered dramatically in her hands. “Julian, what do you think of this one?”

She struck a pose in front of Julian Neville.

He barely glanced up from his phone. “You look beautiful,” he said, then returned his attention to the screen.

That had been his reaction to the very first dress she tried on.

She was now on her seventh.

Julian watched, but to him, they all looked more or less the same.

He rose from the sofa and sifted through the sea of gowns, finally pulling out the simplest one—a pure white satin dress with a square neckline and a modest train, unadorned and elegant.

“Why not try this one?” he suggested.

Of all the dresses, Susy liked this one the least—it was far too plain. But since Julian had picked it, she smiled and carried it into the fitting room.

In truth, Julian didn’t think this dress suited Susy at all.

It would look perfect on Niamh.

While Susy was changing, she heard Julian’s muffled voice—he must have answered a phone call outside.

“Julian? I’m ready.”

She stepped out in the dress he’d chosen, expecting to see him waiting on the couch.

But the room was empty. Julian was nowhere to be found.