His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 284

Yesterday, Niamh had marched into his office wearing this very outfit, demanding answers.

She’d worn the same thing to dinner, the night she’d thrown a glass of wine in his face.

And it had been this outfit she’d had on when she’d stayed to look after him after he’d been drugged with that aphrodisiac.

Now, with Jonathan’s gaze fixed unflinchingly on her, Niamh glanced down at herself, suddenly aware of the repeat.

“I just fell asleep by accident yesterday,” she said earnestly, lowering her eyes. “I was exhausted, that’s all. I wasn’t deliberately watching over you.”

Her tone was serious, but Jonathan only chuckled softly.

Niamh was telling the truth.

Sure, she’d been worried about Jonathan, but not enough to sit up all night at his bedside. She really had been worn out; she’d simply dozed off next to his bed without meaning to.

Jonathan’s look lingered on her, full of knowing amusement.

Niamh could tell he didn’t believe her explanation.

She was the first to leave the Burton house that morning—work was piling up at the office, and lately she barely had time to sleep.

Jonathan, however, had been ordered by the doctor to rest for another day.

At Michael’s front door, Jonathan stood inside while Niamh stood on the outside step.

Michael was alone at the dining table, quietly eating his breakfast.

“I don’t think you should go back to your old place on Trinity Lane,” Jonathan said, his tone careful.

Niamh didn’t ask him why.

She’d planned to swing by home, change clothes, and then head to work. For her, “home” had always meant the old house on Trinity Lane.

Jade Peak Manor was Jonathan’s place, not hers.

Still, Jonathan had a point.

She wasn’t just anyone anymore. She was the lady of The Thomas Group, Jonathan’s wife. If someone caught a photo of her returning to her father’s house early in the morning, still wearing yesterday’s clothes, the rumors would write themselves.

“Why don’t you go back to Jade Peak Manor instead?” Jonathan suggested.

And without Niamh’s breakfast, he saw no reason to eat at all.

Michael let out a sharp laugh and poured himself a drink—wine, this early in the day.

Catching Jonathan’s glance, he waved the bottle. “Don’t look at me like that. Doctor said you can’t have any.”

Jonathan just shook his head, settling onto the sofa with a grave expression.

“I appreciate your help this time,” he said quietly. “But I don’t like owing people—least of all you.”

Michael understood at once. He perched on a stool at the bar, swirling his drink, pretending not to care. “Fine. Give me twenty percent of The Thomas Group.”

“Done,” Jonathan said, far too quickly.

Michael looked genuinely surprised. “So The Thomas Group doesn’t mean much to you after all, huh?”

He laughed, waving Jonathan off. “Alright, let’s change the deal then… Why not just give me Niamh instead?”

This time, Jonathan didn’t answer so readily.