His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 816

Ramona flashed Niamh a brilliant, fake smile.

Niamh knew right away that Ramona was confident she had gotten away with murder. She knew she wouldn't be exposed because the evidence had long since turned to dust.

Niamh hadn't expected Ramona to confess, anyway. She was just probing, testing the waters to confirm the theory she and Jonathan had come up with. And as it turned out, they were spot on.

"It just goes to show you can't underestimate allergies," Niamh said casually. "They sound like no big deal, but a severe one can be fatal. I knew someone who died that way."

Listening to Niamh’s nonchalant tone, Ramona forced herself to say, "What a shame," while desperately wishing she could end the conversation. She was certain Niamh had no proof that she’d killed the patriarch. She had disposed of it all years ago. Where could anyone possibly find a crumb of that chocolate cake laced with peanut butter now?

Inwardly, Ramona scoffed at Niamh's amateur detective work. But she also knew, with a sinking feeling, that Niamh had figured out her method and was convinced she was the murderer. A knot of guilty panic tightened in her stomach.

"If there's nothing else, Ms. Rivers, I should be going."

Ramona turned to leave, but Niamh stepped in her way. "It's such a rare chance to see you, Miss Quinn. I was hoping we could chat a bit more! You see, the acquaintance of mine who died from his allergy—not only was his death tragic, but his will was tampered with by the very person he trusted most, in collusion with his most trusted lawyer. Wouldn't you say he was unlucky?"

Every word was a pointed accusation, and the color drained from Ramona's face. "I'm very busy. I don't have time to listen to this nonsense, Ms. Rivers…"

This time, Ramona snapped. Niamh had no proof. So what if she had guessed every single dirty deed she'd done?

That’s what her mind was screaming, but she couldn't control the wave of anxiety and rage that washed over her. She couldn't stand to hear another word from Niamh's mouth.

"Get out of my way!"

With a furious roar, Ramona flung the contents of her wine glass straight at Niamh. Niamh braced herself for the splash of red wine, but just as it left the glass, a warm embrace suddenly enveloped her, and the wine soaked into a pristine white suit jacket instead.