His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 499

When Niamh pulled up outside the police station, there was no sign of Marina.

Instead, she was led straight to an interrogation room.

Interrogation rooms never held good memories, and Captain Wyatt’s presence added a heavy, suffocating pressure to the air.

But Niamh was hardly unfamiliar with these kinds of situations.

When she was a kid, she’d spent more than a few nights locked away in the solitary wing of the Juvenile Rehabilitation Center.

Just recently, she’d been trapped in an abandoned electrical room at a construction site.

Compared to those brushes with death, being stuck in a police interrogation room barely registered as a hardship.

Captain Wyatt’s questions came fast and sharp, but Niamh answered them all calmly and without hesitation.

She had nothing to hide—because she’d done nothing wrong.

Before she’d come to the station, she’d already checked the trending news online. The headlines had shocked her, but she couldn’t rule out the possibility that this was all Marina’s ploy—a calculated act to frame her.

After all, Marina was indeed the victim here, but for some reason, she kept trying to paint Niamh as the villain.

What did Marina’s assault have to do with her?

From the way Captain Wyatt spoke, it was clear Marina herself had named Niamh as a suspect.

Supposedly, Niamh had a personal vendetta against Marina over a man—first setting her up so her company would go bankrupt, forcing her into debt with loan sharks, and then, even worse, orchestrating the brutal assault.

At first glance, the story almost sounded plausible. Marina was the victim, her testimony carried some weight—yet beyond her words, there wasn’t a shred of evidence.

“Ms. Rivers,” Captain Wyatt pressed, “after Marina’s bankruptcy, all her assets ended up under your name. You’re also Mr. Thomas’s ex-wife, and Marina herself has a complicated history with him… In this love triangle, you had the motive. You’re a suspect.”

Niamh offered him a small, unfazed smile.

Marina was there—but she wasn’t alone.

Jonathan was helping her walk, supporting her gently as they stepped out of the room.

Niamh’s breath caught.

She hadn’t felt the slightest sympathy when she’d first heard what happened to Marina; it had been so obviously a setup meant to frame her, she’d assumed Marina was just putting on a show.

But seeing Marina now, Niamh’s certainty wavered for the first time.

Was Marina really faking it?

Even when Marina had gone bankrupt, Niamh had never seen her look so utterly destroyed.

Now, Marina was wrapped in Jonathan’s suit jacket, her clothes disheveled, her whole body trembling. Her hair was a tangled mess, her face battered and bruised—she looked nothing like the woman Niamh once knew.