His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 498

“We’ll just take it one step at a time.”

Joker’s words were as slippery as ever, but right now, Marina had no one else to count on. If she’d already hit rock bottom, then she’d make sure to drag Niamh down there with her. If she was going down, Niamh was coming with her—no matter what.

The night was dark, the wind sharp.

Marina rode in the back of Keen’s van as they drove out to an abandoned warehouse on the edge of town. The place sent a chill down her spine—these sorts of places always did—but she forced herself to trust Joker. He’d promised to help her, which meant, surely, he wouldn’t turn on her.

Truth be told, the warehouse was a perfect set for the scene she needed to stage. Joker’s plan was simple: all she had to do was fake being assaulted by loan sharks, then pin everything on Niamh. It would be easy to make Jonathan believe Niamh was behind her suffering.

As soon as they arrived, Marina gave brisk orders, directing Keen and the others to unload the props she’d prepared earlier. She arranged the scene with careful detail, then grabbed the collar of her own blouse and tore it open a little. It didn’t look convincing enough, so she hiked up her skirt as well.

The men didn’t leave the whole time. Something about their lingering presence made Marina uneasy.

“Keen, Joker just told you to drop me off. You can go now,” she said, trying to keep her tone steady.

She barely finished speaking before the men exchanged glances, wicked smiles spreading across their faces.

“That’s not what Joker told us,” Keen replied.

As they started walking toward her, dread knotted in Marina’s stomach and drained the color from her face.

“No, Keen… this is just pretend. I just want Jonathan to pity me. I want him to think Niamh set me up—”

But she was already backed against the cold wall of the warehouse. Keen was unbuckling his belt.

“Joker said you’re Drake’s most valuable asset. You’re one of us. To help you, we have to go all out…”

“If it doesn’t look real, how are the police—or your precious Mr. Thomas—supposed to believe it?”

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