His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 507

So Jonathan ended up carrying Niamh down the stairs—fireman style—and practically tossed her into the backseat of the car.

More than once, Prescott wanted to point out that Jonathan’s head was still bleeding, but every time the words reached his lips, he swallowed them back down.

Prescott drove both Jonathan and Niamh straight to the hospital.

The gash on Jonathan’s head was bad enough to need stitches. Niamh’s hand wasn’t as badly hurt as Jonathan’s head, but they still got lucky getting her here in time; otherwise, she might’ve suffered nerve damage.

And for a jewelry designer—especially one with a patented setting technique—her hands were everything.

By the end of it, Niamh’s hand and Jonathan’s head were both wrapped in thick white bandages. The doctor could tell in an instant that the two had gotten into a fight with each other.

But considering who Jonathan was, and since neither of them said a word about it, the doctor decided it was better not to get the police involved. Less trouble for everyone.

So much for a quiet evening—everything ended up wasted at the hospital.

Eventually, Elmer was dragged into the mess.

He’d texted Niamh on WhatsApp earlier, saying he was parked outside her apartment and waiting. Niamh had no choice but to tell him honestly that she was at the hospital.

When Elmer arrived, he found Niamh and Jonathan standing together—though there was a definite space between them. Still, Elmer could never believe they’d just run into each other by chance.

Niamh hadn’t given much detail when she told him she was at the hospital—just said she’d hurt her hand, and hadn’t breathed a word about Jonathan being around.

So the moment Elmer saw Jonathan, he was genuinely caught off guard.

Jonathan’s head was swathed in heavy bandages, looking like he’d taken a bad hit, and Niamh’s dominant hand was similarly wrapped.

Elmer’s expression darkened. He strode over, not waiting for Niamh to say a word, and swung a fist straight at Jonathan.

“Mr. Thomas!”

Prescott hurried forward, but it was too late—Jonathan already had a fresh bruise blooming on his face.

Prescott was about to protest, but Jonathan waved him off. Blood was trickling from his nose; he wiped it away without a word.

He thought to himself that from last night to now, he’d really had nothing but bad luck.

The truth was, Elmer didn’t actually know what had happened last night—or what Jonathan had done to Niamh. All he knew was that when he’d dropped Niamh off, she’d been perfectly fine, and now, after just one night, she was in the hospital with an injured hand.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify