His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 491

"You really didn't know? Your little studio isn't worth a dime—nobody wanted it, so I took it off your hands out of the goodness of my heart. Oh, and your parents' clothing factory, the rehab center you started with Jonathan's connections... I bought all of them at a tenth of their value. And let's not forget your Ebonwood Hall house—I own that now, too. So, everything you have? It all belongs to me."

As Niamh spoke with that cold, unshakable calm, Marina's eyes widened, brimming with tears. Her mascara ran in dark streaks down her cheeks as she broke down completely.

She had never imagined she'd end up on the floor, staring up at Niamh.

Never thought that one day, Niamh would be standing over her, looking down with that air of invincibility.

Off to the side, Lily and Olive had been hesitating, wondering if they should step in to help Marina. But after hearing Niamh's words, they made up their minds.

Marina had always seemed solidly middle class—her parents owned a factory, and thanks to Jonathan, she’d started a rehab center that raked in a tidy profit.

But now?

The factory was Niamh’s. So was the rehab center.

What did Marina have left?

Just a mountain of debt.

Lily and Olive exchanged a knowing glance. The silent agreement passed between them: Please, God, don’t let Marina ask to borrow money.

“Lily, didn’t you say you had some urgent family thing today?” Olive prompted, her voice a little too bright.

“Oh—right! Marina, we really have to run. Sorry!” Lily grabbed Olive’s arm, and the two of them ducked out of Marina’s seized studio before she could even reply.

Niamh folded her arms, feigning surprise. “Huh. Weren’t those two supposed to be your best friends? Funny—one little bankruptcy, and they can’t even bother to help you up off the floor.”

Marina’s humiliation curdled into fury. “Don’t get cocky, Niamh! I’m not finished. I still have Jonathan—he loves me! The man you’ve been pining after your whole life, he loves me, and that’s something you can never take!” Her voice trembled, but she held Niamh’s gaze, desperate for any advantage.

Niamh just scoffed. “How clueless do you have to be to think Jonathan’s coming to your rescue? If he really wanted to help, you wouldn’t be bankrupt right now. Besides, he’s barely holding himself together these days.”

She glanced down at the stack of drawings in her hand—Marina’s designs, every page the result of hours of work and imagination.

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