His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 95

Niamh froze in Jonathan's arms.

Jonathan narrowed his eyes, a crooked smile playing on his lips.

"So, the Neville family's golden boy is waiting outside, isn't he?"

Without warning, Jonathan scooped Niamh up and tossed her onto the bed.

"You claim to love me, yet you string along that innocent boy. Why not let me end his little fantasy?"

His powerful frame pinned her down. Terror flooded Niamh's face, leaving her ashen as she stared up at him.

"How about we let him hear us together?" Jonathan's tone was chillingly casual. "Let's see if that will finally crush his hopes."

Out in the hallway, Julian paced anxiously. He stopped short at the abrupt crash of something shattering from inside.

"Niamh! Niamh, are you alright?"

He pounded on the door, panic rising when there was no answer. Fumbling for his phone, he was about to call the police when the door swung open.

Jonathan stood in the doorway, bare-chested, a towel slung low around his waist. Blood trickled from a split on his lip.

Julian's face twisted with rage at the sight.

"What the hell did you do to Niamh?"

Jonathan just smirked, utterly unfazed.

"I'm her husband. What I do with my wife is none of your business."

Before Niamh could intervene—having barely thrown her clothes back on—Jonathan and Julian were already trading blows. She tried in vain to break up the fight, but when it was clear she couldn't, she had no choice but to call the police.

All three of them ended up at the station.

Julian had clearly come off worst in the scuffle, but since he'd thrown the first punch, the blame was pinned on him.

"Jonathan, this was my fault. Please… don't press charges against Julian, okay?" Niamh pleaded quietly.

Jonathan shot her a cold, mocking smile.

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