His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 281

Niamh answered the phone, a bit confused and on guard.

On the other end, Jonathan’s voice came through.

“Prescott, I’m on Harborview Drive…”

That first word—“Prescott”—threw Niamh for a loop. She didn’t get it at all.

But it didn’t take her long to realize Jonathan had dialed the wrong number.

The call was meant for Prescott, not her.

Niamh tried her best to listen to what Jonathan said next, but his words broke up, unclear and scattered. Through the static, she could tell something was off—his voice trembled, as if he was shivering.

Night had fallen by the time Niamh restarted her white BMW and sped off into the darkness.

Harborview Drive.

At this hour, the road was all but deserted.

She’d assumed finding Jonathan would be tricky since she hadn’t caught his exact location. But she’d underestimated the eye-catching presence of a royal blue Bentley.

As soon as she turned onto Harborview Drive, she spotted it parked on the side of the road, hazard lights blinking in the gloom.

Niamh pulled over and got out, walking up to the striking car. She rapped on the driver’s side window.

“Jonathan?”

No response. So she yanked open the door.

A heavy wave of alcohol assaulted her senses, making her cough.

Jonathan sat slumped in the driver’s seat, eyes shut. Whether he’d never bothered with his seatbelt or already taken it off, she couldn’t tell, but it wasn’t on him anymore.

His suit jacket was a crumpled mess, tie discarded, and several buttons on his shirt had come undone, exposing his graceful collarbones and an Adam’s apple that bobbed with each shaky breath.

He didn’t look asleep, not really, even with his eyes closed.

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