His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 308

He nearly forgot—Niamh and Jonathan weren’t even divorced yet!

“Very soon, she won’t be your granddaughter-in-law anymore.”

No sooner had Michael finished speaking than Niamh snapped at him, and Preston Winslow’s expression darkened instantly.

Michael adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, glancing from Niamh to Preston Winslow.

“What? Am I wrong?”

Niamh opened her mouth but couldn’t come up with a retort.

Michael was stating a fact.

Still, no matter how true it was, he shouldn’t have said it right in front of Clifford, the family patriarch.

Niamh shot Michael a look of reproach, but he simply shrugged, unfazed.

“Don’t blame Michael. He’s not wrong. If you want to blame someone, blame Jonathan for not cherishing what he had.”

Seeing the annoyance flicker across Clifford’s face, Niamh grew worried he might get upset again.

“By the way, Grandpa, where’s Jonathan? I haven’t seen him around these past few days.”

“Jonathan’s working with us at the Burton Group on a new project!”

Michael’s words caught Preston Winslow off guard.

“No way… Jonathan, with you? That’s a recipe for disaster.”

“They’ve already had a falling out.”

Michael squinted, shooting a meaningful glance in Niamh’s direction.

Niamh instantly realized he was referring to that recent incident when someone drugged Jonathan.

“Can’t you say something positive for once, especially in front of his grandfather?” Preston Winslow couldn’t help but snap at Michael.

Every time Michael opened his mouth around Clifford, it was either about Jonathan’s impending divorce or his latest brawl.

Niamh hadn’t been particularly interested in the conversation, but under their scrutiny, she found herself growing curious.

Could Michael’s demand have involved her? And why had Jonathan refused?

“Hey, Michael, what’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” Preston grumbled, impatient for an answer.

“Northriver’s a prime piece of real estate,” Michael said at last, “but we offered a little something in return. That project we’d been negotiating with CelestiMed? Jonathan had been angling for a seat at the table—and now he’s finally got his wish.”

“CelestiMed…” Niamh murmured. She’d heard of the company—a rising star in medical technology.

The pieces fell into place for Preston. “So that’s it! No wonder you said Jonathan’s working with the Burton Group on a new deal. I remember now… it’s something in medical AI, right?”

Michael nodded.

“So the project’s not going smoothly? Otherwise, Jonathan would never go this long without visiting his grandfather,” Preston said, frowning.

Michael took off his glasses, massaging the bridge of his nose before slipping them back on. “Not going smoothly at all. Right now, we’re just hoping the new hires CelestiMed promised for next week will turn things around.”