His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 690

Niamh really didn’t want to admit that she was the girl Jonathan was chasing.

After being publicly rebuked by Niamh, Sutton and Laurel scurried off the stage, no longer daring to trumpet their theory of AI replacing human designers.

Soon, the forum moved to its final segment—the dinner reception, a prime time for networking.

Niamh had little interest in socializing and was focused on her meal, but she couldn't fend off the constant stream of people coming over to raise a glass to her. By the time she finally had a moment to eat in peace, her food was nearly cold.

“Niamh, can we talk for a moment?” Jonathan had made his way to her table and asked softly.

Niamh had noticed him long before. As soon as the presentation segment ended, she saw him striding purposefully toward her table. However, the guests nearby were closer and seized the opportunity one after another, approaching her to network. Jonathan had no choice but to stand back and patiently wait his turn.

In all her memories of him, this was the first time Niamh had ever seen Jonathan so humble.

“Wait. I’m eating,” she said coolly, then lowered her head and resumed her meal. She deliberately ate slowly, chatting casually with the other designers at her table.

She left Jonathan standing there, like a bodyguard looming behind her.

Everyone at the table recognized Jonathan and could see that Niamh was intentionally giving him the cold shoulder. The dramatic saga of their marriage and divorce had been gossip fodder for the entire social circle, so everyone knew their history.

They entered a private suite, one after the other. Though it was a smaller room, it was still quite large, and with just the two of them inside, it felt vast and chilly.

Niamh didn't initiate the conversation. She knew that whether she asked or not, Jonathan would speak.

The man standing before her was still the same powerful tycoon who could command the markets, but his usual cold, dominant aura had receded significantly. He even seemed somewhat awkward and constrained.

Jonathan was racking his brain for an opening line. He had always thought of himself as articulate, but right now, his tongue felt tied.

Finally, before saying a word, he took something out.