His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 545

It was the first time that night Jonathan actually looked at Ramona.

Ramona’s makeup and style couldn’t have been more different from Niamh’s.

Niamh was breathtakingly beautiful, yet she carried herself with an understated grace, always shying away from the spotlight.

Ramona, on the other hand, seemed determined to be the center of attention no matter the occasion—her every move designed to draw every eye in the room.

“Mr. Thomas, would you be so kind as to join me for a drink?”

With her scarlet lips curved in a dazzling smile, Ramona’s invitation left no room for subtlety.

“I don’t think Miss Quinn is in need of my company,” Jonathan replied coolly.

He shot a quick glance over his shoulder—Hayes, Carlotta, Sprague, and Marigold were all watching him and Ramona with interest.

Ramona tossed her hair, playing up her charm with the practiced ease of someone who knew the effect she had.

“They’re busy with their grown-up talk. That doesn’t mean you can’t have a drink with me,” she purred.

Her delicate hand slid onto the back of his, but Jonathan simply lowered his gaze in silence.

A moment passed. Then he looked up at Ramona and offered a cold, dismissive smile.

“But I don’t want to.”

Without the slightest hesitation, Jonathan shook off Ramona’s hand, not bothering to conceal the gesture. Heads turned at the abruptness of it.

Ramona’s expression darkened in an instant.

He could have discreetly pulled his hand away, but he had chosen to make a show of it, leaving Ramona to stew in her humiliation.

Under her resentful glare, Jonathan turned, leaving the Nimbus Summit without so much as a backward glance.

He hurried through the lobby, chasing after Niamh. He finally caught sight of her at the entrance to Isabelline Tower—her back straight, wrapped in a sleek black evening gown that accentuated both her elegance and her delicate, willowy frame.

She looked almost porcelain in the soft lights—a fragile, perfect silhouette. But before Jonathan could call out, she slipped into a white Lexus waiting by the curb.

Jonathan’s lips pressed into a thin, sharp line.

He knew that car. It was Elmer’s.

Niamh hadn’t lied—she really had asked Elmer to pick her up.

The realization hit Jonathan like a punch to the gut. His handsome features twisted with a complex mix of disappointment, frustration, and heartache.

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