His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 164

All set.

Night had fallen, and Aldenville glowed with the neon glare of bars and the shimmer of excess. The city pulsed with music and laughter, promising a night of indulgence to anyone willing to pay the price.

Mr. Brown and his crew had called it a dinner, but in truth, it was just an excuse to hole up in a garish karaoke bar.

The moment Niamh pushed open the door to their private suite, she was greeted by the sight of scantily clad hostesses perched beside Mr. Brown and his friends, flirting and playing drinking games.

Not a single other woman was in sight—just a room full of men who looked like they belonged in a cigar lounge, not a business meeting.

Niamh instantly regretted coming.

"Ms. Rivers, you made it! Come here, have a seat!" Mr. Brown called out, patting his thigh with a sleazy grin.

Niamh ignored the invitation, choosing the seat furthest from the group. She wasn't about to play into his games.

Mr. Brown's smile faltered, but he quickly recovered. He knew Niamh wasn't the type to throw herself at men for a paycheck or connections.

"Ms. Rivers," he began, voice oily and persuasive, "when your studio opened last month, I told you AMS wanted to commission a series of luxury pocket watches for their VIP clients. They need a designer to handle the intricate inlay work—someone with real skill. I've always had my eye on you for this project. In fact, I've already spoken to AMS about you…"

Niamh's interest piqued at that. Still, she didn't thank him right away. She wasn't naïve enough to believe opportunities like this just fell out of the sky.

Seeing her calm, unreadable expression, Mr. Brown arched an eyebrow and pressed on. "But, you know... T&R has reached out to me too. They want the same job."

T&R—Marina's studio.

"And you know, Marina comes recommended by Chairman Grant, and she's got that... special relationship with Jonathan from the Thomas Group. Even if I think you're more talented, I can't exactly ignore Mr. Thomas or Chairman Grant's wishes, can I?"

As he spoke, Mr. Brown patted his thigh again, unmistakable in his implication.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify