His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 290

“No.”

“Alright.”

Their conversation was painfully brief.

Niamh still wasn’t sure why Jonathan had called her in the first place.

Before she could say another word, he’d already hung up.

She drove over to Canopy Coffee.

Peter had suggested they meet there—afternoon tea and a little business talk.

“You’re a hard woman to pin down these days,” Peter teased as she slid into the booth across from him.

Niamh grinned. “Says who? I’ll always make time for you.”

Being with Peter was a relief after the constant tension of dealing with the Thomases. The tightness she’d been carrying around in her shoulders finally eased, and she could let her guard down.

“Work matters, but so does your health. Don’t burn yourself out,” Peter said, reaching over to gently massage her temples.

Niamh blinked in surprise, but he’d already withdrawn his hand.

Across the street, behind the spotless glass, someone was holding up a large black camera.

Back inside Canopy Coffee, Peter poured a steaming cup of herbal tea and pushed it toward her.

He could tell Niamh’s exhaustion wasn’t just about work—but he wasn’t about to pry into her private life. Bringing it up would only add to her troubles.

“The project isn’t confirmed yet, but there’s definite interest. They reached out through me, wanted you to start thinking about it,” Peter said, sliding a folder across the table.

“Queen of Frostvale?” Niamh stared at him, shocked.

Peter chuckled. “That’s right. A royal commission—restoring the old crown and crafting an entirely new one.”

“I mean, a project like that…for me? Isn’t that a bit much?” Niamh couldn’t quite believe it. In her mind, the royal family surely had their own traditional craftsmen.

“Originally, Her Majesty wanted BYC to take it on, but couldn’t get in touch. And I suspect you know more about that than I do,” Peter grinned, poking fun at her.

Niamh felt like Bagot was a bad dream she just couldn’t shake.

That evening, gossip blogs exploded with accusations—claims that Niamh had forgotten her roots after marrying into money, and was turning her back on desperate relatives. Her name shot to the top of the trending topics.

She knew immediately this was Bagot’s handiwork, trying to pressure her with public opinion.

She switched off her phone, pulled out the project brief, and immersed herself in work.

Gossip like this never lasted; a couple of days, and it would all blow over.

Jade Peak Pavilion.

Jonathan lay sprawled on the bed.

It was the same bed they’d bought when they got married.

Now, alone, it felt far too big.

He scrolled mindlessly through his phone, his thumb pausing on a trending headline.