His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 332

“Julian… he’s not coming.”

Almost unconsciously, Jonathan reached for his phone.

“Hey, Jonathan, what happened to your phone? Why’s the screen all shattered?”

Marina stared at the spiderweb of cracks running through the center of his phone’s screen, confusion written all over her face.

The corners were perfectly intact—the fracture ran right through the middle.

“I picked at it myself last night,” Jonathan replied offhandedly.

“What?”

If anything, his response only left Marina more puzzled, her brow furrowed in complete bewilderment.

Jonathan just shrugged and gave a quick, careless smile, the corners of his mouth growing colder as he dropped the subject.

In the end, just as Jonathan had said, Julian didn’t show.

The entire day passed with no sign of him anywhere. It was as if he’d vanished into thin air—no one could reach him, not a single call or message got through.

The Nevilles were frantic, the Frasers were beside themselves, and Susy was at her wits’ end.

Outside the church, Jonathan gazed at the sunset as the sky blazed with streaks of crimson.

“Jonathan, do you know something? Do you know where Julian is?” Marina edged closer, her voice low and cautious.

“Yeah. I know.”

Jonathan’s answer only fueled her curiosity, but when she saw he had no intention of saying more, she decided not to press him.

They stood together for a while, watching the sun sink below the horizon. Then, out of nowhere, Marina asked, “By the way, where’s Niamh? I haven’t seen her all day.”

She’d wanted to ask for hours.

Even though she knew full well that Daniel had forced Niamh onto a boat, it didn’t make sense for Jonathan to act like nothing had happened when Niamh had disappeared.

“Niamh… she’s with Julian.”

“What?!”

Marina’s face went pale with shock.

As night fell, The Grand Celestia was ablaze with light.

With Joker’s resources, if he could kill Daniel, he could have killed Niamh too.

“She’s lucky. The groom-to-be saved her. She’s alive, she hasn’t been taken away. Honestly, isn’t that better?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Marina shot him a skeptical look.

Jarrett grinned—a wide, almost innocent smile.

“Remember that photographer who’s been dying to make a fortune off Niamh? I know you’ve already contacted him. Well, now’s the perfect time to put him to use.”

Marina’s eyes lit up at that, practically glowing with excitement.

Meanwhile, Niamh had slept through another full day and night in Julian’s seaside villa.

After their conversation, she’d finally managed to calm down, her strength and spirit slowly returning.

But as secluded as the villa was, it was no true safe haven.

At the crack of dawn the next day, a heated argument jolted Niamh awake.

She’d barely gotten out of bed when a woman stormed in and slapped her hard across the face.