His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 520

“So, what—you’re saying you’ve fallen for Jarrett Guthrie’s face?”

“Aren’t we supposed to be talking about you and Jonathan? Why drag me into this…”

Even though Niamh couldn’t see Lana’s expression over the phone, she could easily picture her friend blushing furiously.

“By the way… how far have things gotten with you and Jarrett? Are you two meeting the parents any time soon?”

“Meet—meet his parents? Where’s that coming from? Isn’t it way too early?”

“But Lana, you’re not getting any younger, you know! Hasn’t Jarrett brought it up?”

“No… we barely know each other that well!”

Hearing this, Niamh frowned just a little.

“So, what do his parents do?”

“I… I have no idea! I never asked, and he’s never mentioned it…”

It wasn’t until right this moment, with the phone pressed to her ear, that Lana realized she knew almost nothing about Jarrett.

All their dates had basically just been in hotel rooms.

“Um… maybe next time, I’ll find a chance to ask him.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Niamh let it drop.

Lana was a grown woman—her love life wasn’t really Niamh’s business. Still, the more perfect a man seemed, the more careful you had to be.

Jarrett had the looks, the charm, a solid career—he was the full package. But that’s exactly the kind you needed to watch out for.

After hanging up, Niamh lay back on her bed, phone still in hand, unable to settle down.

Back in college, she’d never really questioned why a man as flawless as Jonathan would chase after her.

Sure, she was beautiful.

But beautiful women were a dime a dozen, and with Jonathan’s status, he was never short on gorgeous women—movie stars, trust fund heiresses, you name it.

She’d been swept off her feet by love.

With a faint smile, Niamh finally drifted off to a sweet, dreamless sleep.

The next morning, she woke early. Her schedule today was supposed to be all business: she’d planned to go to The Thomas Group, take charge as the majority shareholder, and force a boardroom shakeup—no more being a figurehead with no real control.

But just as she slid into the driver’s seat of her white BMW, her phone rang.

When she saw the caller ID, she hesitated—she really didn’t want to answer.

The ringtone went on and on, grating on her nerves.

With a sigh, she finally picked up: “What do you want, Prescott?”

Her BMW sat idling in the parking spot a long moment before finally pulling out and heading down a wide avenue.

But it wasn’t the way to The Thomas Group.

Jade Peak Manor.

Jonathan lay in bed, eyes squeezed shut, fists twisting the sheets. His whole body shook with fever.

He’d spent the entire night out in the storm, and now, burning up, he was delirious—murmuring nonsense to the empty room.