His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 611

Jonathan studied Niamh’s face. It was a face beautiful enough to belong to a movie star, yet it concealed so many complicated emotions. He once thought she was simple, a blank canvas that he could paint with all his favorite colors. Now he was discovering that the blank canvas was just a disguise, an illusion.

In the end, she didn’t answer his question. She simply turned and walked away.

Jonathan started to follow her, but Wally, the butler, stopped him. “Mr. Thomas, Mr. Quinn requests your presence.”

Withdrawing his step, Jonathan followed Wally back into the main house. It was the first time he had met Jameson Quinn in person. He was likely around the same age as his own grandfather, Clifford Thomas, but the two men couldn't have been more different.

Clifford, a former soldier, was still robust and full of life in his seventies, exuding an air of enduring strength. His face was kind, his presence righteous, and he seemed like an easygoing old man.

Jameson Quinn was the complete opposite. He was unnaturally thin, with a sallow, ashen complexion and a darkness around his temples that suggested poor health. His gauntness made his features seem severe, almost cruel, and his eyes were cold, sharp, and demanding. Jonathan’s first impression of him was not a good one.

“Thank you for the invitation to your birthday celebration, Mr. Quinn. I wish you many happy returns,” Jonathan said, offering the standard polite greeting.

Jameson waved a dismissive hand. “The thought is appreciated, but at my age, I no longer celebrate birthdays. Each one is one less to live. A fortune-teller told me that not celebrating is the key to longevity.”

This superstitious belief was yet another stark contrast to his own practical grandfather.

“In that case, I should take my leave,” Jonathan said.

“Wait!” Ramona immediately stood up as Jonathan prepared to go.

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