His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 283

"I’ll do it."

Michael hoisted Jonathan up without missing a beat.

Jonathan didn’t protest. Given their height difference, it was far easier for Michael to support him than it had been for Niamh.

Niamh trailed beside them, silent, following Michael toward the black Mercedes parked at the curb.

"Didn’t expect you to be this nice, you know!" she blurted, the compliment genuine.

Michael, however, brushed it off. "If I weren’t helping him, you wouldn’t have anything good to say about me."

Niamh couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head.

Michael bundled Jonathan into the back seat. "You should be grateful I decided not to take the sports car tonight," he remarked. For business meetings, the white Lamborghini was flashy and inappropriate—unlike the sleek, understated black Mercedes.

It was obvious to Michael what had happened: Jonathan had been drugged with some kind of aphrodisiac. The fact that Jonathan had managed to get himself out, drive away, and resist temptation even with a woman around—Michael figured that was eighty percent because Jonathan just wasn’t interested in women, and twenty percent sheer willpower.

"Get in," Michael called to Niamh, but didn’t offer her the back seat.

Yet, instead of taking the spacious passenger side up front, Niamh slid naturally into the back, squeezing in next to Jonathan.

Michael adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, irritation plain on his face—though Niamh didn’t so much as glance his way.

She let Jonathan rest his head in her lap. His right hand stayed clenched in a fist, rigid and unmoving.

She knew he was still fighting it, clinging to the pain to keep the drug’s effects at bay.

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