His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 135

A multi-million-dollar BMW convertible—hardly a blip on Jonathan's radar.

Niamh didn't care, either, about how much Jonathan spent on Marina. After all, that rare pink diamond necklace Jonathan once gifted Marina—one of only ten in the world—had to cost at least as much as this car, if not more.

Niamh's attention was squarely on Marina, who was chatting animatedly with Jonathan on the phone. She didn't even notice when Preston Winslow sidled up beside her.

"Wow, what an act. Already cruising around in a fancy German car!" Preston sneered, eyeing the signed contract in Niamh's hand with undisguised contempt.

Niamh glanced up at him, her expression cool. "Did I spend your money? Why's your mouth running?"

Preston folded his arms, half-laughing, half-exasperated. In his mind, Niamh had always been meek and easily pushed around.

"So what, you think just because you've got a job now, you're not a housewife anymore? With your paycheck, you probably couldn't even afford one of those run-flat tires on a BMW."

But Niamh just stood up, a smile flickering at her lips. "Even so, I'm still better than a woman who buys herself a sports car with someone else's husband's money."

Across the showroom, Marina was signing her own contract when she caught Niamh's words. The sales associate shot her a pointed look, and the triumphant smile faded from Marina's face.

"Niamh, don't push your luck. You're the one who stole someone else's place!"

"Preston," Niamh said, "don't think I've forgotten the last time I threw a drink in your face. Still not sober yet?"

Preston's face darkened, his jaw clenched. That spilled drink had been the butt of countless jokes from Zachary and the guys all night.

The dealership had a new Series 3 in stock, so Niamh drove it off the lot that very day, temporary plates and all. As she slid into the driver's seat, she happened to notice a custom auto shop across the street.

That night, Aldenville International Raceway was packed and buzzing with energy.

In the grandstands, Jonathan sat with Marina and Preston. He'd never been much for racing, but Preston was a die-hard fan and had booked tonight's tickets months ago, inviting both Jonathan and Marina.

"Jonathan, could you at least change your clothes? That suit is way too much for this," Preston complained, wrinkling his nose.

Jonathan shot him a look. "I came straight from work to be here with you. Maybe try being grateful?"

"Oh, please. You're not here for me," Preston scoffed, waving him off. "Don't think I don't know—you're just trying to sneak in some alone time with your Marina."

"Then you can leave," Jonathan deadpanned.

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