His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 322

But Jonathan’s eyes kept scanning the room, searching for something—or someone.

“Prescott…”

He had just spoken when a man’s voice cut in from nearby.

“Looking for someone?”

The voice wasn’t exactly familiar, but it wasn’t a stranger’s, either. Jonathan had just spent the better part of an hour listening to it back in the conference room.

“Want a hand?” the man—Jarrett—offered, but Jonathan didn’t answer. Not a word.

Suddenly, the blaring alarm fell silent.

Jarrett wandered off, chatted with a staff member, and returned at a leisurely pace. “They checked everything,” he reported. “False alarm. No real fire. Either a prank or a faulty machine. Apparently, the smoke machine for the wedding let out way too much smoke, set off the fire alarm.”

Prescott let out the breath he’d been holding, pressing a hand to his chest in relief.

Meanwhile, Jonathan quietly pulled out his phone. A WhatsApp message from Niamh popped up: *Something came up. I had to leave early.*

Jonathan frowned, thumb hovering over her name, about to call. Before he could, a video call buzzed in.

He answered without thinking. Daniel’s sickeningly smug face filled the screen.

“Well, Mr. Thomas, long time no see!”

Jonathan’s gaze turned ice-cold. He noticed Daniel was in some dilapidated apartment—the wallpaper yellowed and peeling in strips.

“Time’s short when you’re a wanted man, so let’s get to the point…” Daniel sneered. “Put together ten million for me, or the woman dies.”

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