His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 475

“And those shipping containers? They’re all empty. They have nothing to do with your construction site…”

Jonathan had sent some men to rough up the foreman, wanting answers about the containers.

But the foreman didn’t know much. He hadn’t realized Jasper was stacking those containers to hide the cement staircase leading down to an abandoned electrical room.

Maybe the foreman was innocent—but Jasper sure as hell wasn’t.

“So, you want to call the cops? Perfect. I’ll give you a ride. The police love cases like premeditated murder.”

The moment Jonathan stood up, Jasper collapsed to his knees at Jonathan’s feet.

“Mr. Thomas, please, I’m begging you. I was wrong, I swear I know I was wrong… It wasn’t me, I swear it wasn’t me! I wouldn’t dare, not even if you gave me a hundred lives! Especially not with your ex-wife…”

He babbled apologies, banging his head against the floor with every word.

Jonathan kicked him aside with a look of disgust.

“I’m not interested in your excuses.”

He jerked his chin at the men waiting by the door.

“Keep going.”

The enforcers swarmed in, and as they beat Jasper, he screamed and wailed:

“It was Susy! It was Susy!”

—

In the hospital room,

Niamh had just received word from the police: Susy had been apprehended.

Jasper was one of Niamh’s clients, and they’d worked together more than once. She’d racked her brain trying to figure out why Jasper would want to hurt her. There was no conflict of interest between them—in fact, Jasper admired her designs enough to sign a long-term contract.

But then the police told her Jasper had already confessed. He claimed Susy had slept with him and begged him for help.

He insisted he’d never dreamed Susy would go so far as to commit murder. All he’d done was send a message, luring Niamh to the site.

Lying in her hospital bed, Niamh smirked as she gripped her phone.

“Some men really do lose their heads over a pretty face.”

Jasper had thrown his whole life away for a woman like Susy.

Shaking her head, Niamh dialed a number.

“Well, well! The lady herself is calling me—I’m flattered!”

Flynn Sinclair’s voice poured through the speaker, a sound she hadn’t heard in ages.

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