His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 263

A faint green glow shimmered on the runway—not deep, not quite emerald, but carrying an effortless, elegant allure.

In the dark, those streaks of green twisted and wove like wild vines, wrapping around the models’ necks, wrists, earlobes, and hair, alive with an uncanny energy. They seemed almost to bristle with invisible thorns, so sharp they made your eyes sting and your heart race.

Every eye in the audience was glued to those ghostly, flickering green brambles when, all at once, the emergency UV lights snapped on, illuminating only the catwalk.

There, roses bled crimson as they burst into full bloom.

As the audience watched, spellbound, lifelike red roses seemed to struggle free from the thorny vines, their petals unfurling in a dazzling display. The hall erupted in thunderous applause.

“Do you see that? The scarlet glow… Burmese pigeon blood rubies—top grade!”

“It’s like watching real magic. Absolutely incredible!”

“I’ve never seen a show like this in my life. Outstanding, truly outstanding.”

The crowd buzzed with admiration.

Pigeon blood rubies from Burma, meticulously cut and set into the shape of blooming roses, paired with phosphorescent green fluorite crafted into twisting thorns—glamorous, dazzling, impossible to ignore. The illusion of roses bursting to life among brambles, performed with a magician’s flair, sent the entire jewelry fashion show to its climax.

Jonathan watched every moment, eyes shining, a slow smile spreading across his face as his astonishment turned to delight.

Miranda clapped so hard her hands began to sting, though she hardly noticed. That butterfly ring—her first glimpse of Niamh’s talent—had already won her respect, but she’d never imagined Niamh could deliver a surprise like this. Niamh’s potential seemed limitless now. She might just become as renowned as Miranda’s favorite, BYC.

Backstage, Marina’s face was a mask of fury, her fingernails digging so hard into her palms she nearly drew blood.

How had it come to this?

She’d sprayed hydrochloric acid all over Niamh’s jewelry, yet instead of ruining the gems, they shone more brilliantly than ever!

Marina couldn’t understand.

Her heart pounded, breath coming short, sweat beading on her brow.

The thought of seducing Quentin—letting him touch her, hold her, press close—only to be outmaneuvered and turned into a pawn for Niamh’s triumph, made her want to tear Quentin limb from limb.

On stage, the show was nearing its end. Just four pieces in total, and the models had already finished their walk. Still, the audience was left wanting more.

Niamh stepped onto the runway to speak.

Before she could utter a word, another wave of applause thundered through the hall.

It was her first time standing on an international stage like this, and Niamh’s heart thudded with excitement. She’d never dreamed of becoming a jewelry designer. Studying design had just been a way to escape.

Yet, as if fate had quietly guided her, she’d found herself on this path after all—and now, to meet her investor’s demands, she stood before the world.

Niamh was filled with emotion.

“Thank you, everyone, for believing in my work.”