His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 62

Many jewelry designers at home and abroad came forward to support Niamh, pointing out that countless past designs had echoed similar elements—hardly grounds for accusing her of plagiarism.

Then the tables turned. Dirt on Monica started surfacing online—allegations of stealing others' work, sleeping with her boss, even being the "other woman." Almost overnight, the internet's attention shifted squarely to Monica.

Niamh felt she'd been on an emotional rollercoaster in just a single day, but at least—for now—her own scandal seemed to have blown over.

She spent the entire day holed up at home.

Her eyes were too swollen to go anywhere.

No matter how she tried, the mirror confirmed it: makeup couldn't hide the puffy lids, no matter how many times she tried. Frustrated, she ended up smashing two palettes of contour powder in a fit of anger.

She even considered putting cucumber slices on her eyes, hoping they'd be less swollen by morning.

Just as dinnertime approached, Julian called.

"I'm here to claim credit," he announced cheerily.

Niamh instantly understood—Julian must have hired people to help shift public opinion online.

"Thank you. Seriously, thank you."

"Just a thank you? That's it? Feels a little perfunctory, don't you think?"

Julian's teasing made Niamh laugh. "Alright, then. How should I thank you?"

"Offer yourself as a reward—what do you think?" Julian joked, hamming it up.

Niamh went quiet.

On a normal day, she would've thrown the joke right back—maybe something like, "Only if you don't mind me not bringing a dowry." But after what happened with Jonathan last night, Julian's words unexpectedly brought back memories of Jonathan's proposal, leaving her momentarily speechless.

Julian panicked at her silence. "I'm just kidding, Niamh! Please don't be mad!"

Niamh snapped back to herself.

Julian had helped her so much—she should be the one treating him to dinner. But Julian insisted, almost stubbornly, that it was his treat; all she had to do was show up.

The nightlife in Aldenville was dazzling—neon lights, music drifting from bars, the city humming with energy.

Niamh arrived at the Grand International Hotel and ducked into the restroom first, checking her reflection over and over.

As beautiful as Niamh looked tonight, and as much as she tried to hide it, Julian had noticed her swollen eyes—and the way her outfit and makeup were so unlike her usual style. It wasn't hard to put things together.

A knot of frustration twisted in Julian's chest.

He wanted to ask what Jonathan had that he didn't.

Good looks? He wasn't lacking.

Money? He had plenty.

"Niamh…"

He reached for her arm, gently turning her to face him. Under the dazzling bridge lights, his cheeks were flushed, his gaze intense.

"I… actually… I—"

Just then, her phone rang, shattering the moment. An unknown number lit up the screen. Niamh murmured an apology and answered.

"Hello, is this Ms. Niamh? This is the police department."