The House Wife Had Secret Identities (Niamh Rivers and Jonathan) novel Chapter 330

Chapter 330

“Julian?”

“Yeah…”

Julian smiled, just as he had the first time they met–there was something so unmistakably youthful about him, that fresh–faced collège energy that still lingered. But Niamh couldn’t bring herself to smile back.

“Julian, do you know what time it is? What about your wedding?”

“I ran away,” he said.

Niamh froze.

He said it so casually, his smile never faltering, as if skipping his own wedding was as simple as skipping class.

A chill crept down Niamh’s spine.

Ran away? Did he mean… he ran out on his wedding?

“Niamh, I saved you. I’m the one who pulled you out of that mess… I’m your savior.”

Julian spoke as he stepped closer,

Niamh stared at him, wide–eyed.

He still looked like the Julian she remembered.

But something felt different, and the unease settled deep in her chest.

Seeing Niamh clutch the blanket tightly around her, Julian’s lips twisted into a faint

smirk.

“What if I told you… you already belong to me?”

Niamh clenched her jaw, silent.

The coldness in Julian’s smile was nothing like the boy she remembered.

The Julian from her memories–before and after inheriting his family’s business–had always been kind, a little naïve, almost too good–hearted for his own good.

But now…

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For the first time, Niamh felt afraid of him.

Julian leaned in, his weight pressing her back against the bed.

“What if I said… I’m going to keep you here, locked away, and you’ll never be able to leave again?”

He was so close she could feel his breath, each word a barely veiled threat.

Niamh didn’t look away from his burning, almost desperate gaze.

She stayed quiet for a moment, then shook her head.

“No. You wouldn’t do that.”

“I already have!” Julian shot back.

“Thank you for saving me,” Niamh said softly, sincerely–her gratitude taking Julian by surprise.

He blinked, his face twisting with a storm of emotions.

She sighed. “If you’d really meant to hurt me, you wouldn’t have left my underwear on. And if you wanted to keep me prisoner, there are plenty of places more remote than this. Most importantly, I haven’t known you that long, but I know you’d never actually hurt me.”

Niamh met his eyes, her honesty making Julian flush with shame.

“I’m not as good as you think, Niamh…”

Julian’s fists clenched tight.

“I really… I really did think about keeping you here forever. Locking you away in this house so you could never leave.”

After all, she didn’t have anyone–just a mother in a care home, no powerful family, no one who’d come looking. And Jonathan? He never loved her. He wouldn’t care what happened to her.

Julian had considered it–seriously, while she was unconscious, he’d let himself imagine it all.

If he couldn’t have her love, maybe he could at least have her.

“I don’t deserve your trust,” Julian whispered. “I…”

“Julian…”

She interrupted him.

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He looked tormented–caught between shame, longing, and regret.

Niamh knew he wasn’t lying.

Maybe, just maybe, she’d come within a hair’s breadth of losing her freedom entirely.

But in the end…

“No matter what you thought about doing, you didn’t go through with it.”

“No, I did!”

Julian’s answer was sharp, final.

Niamh frowned, confused.

“What did you do?”

“When Jonathan called you, I answered…”

Niamh’s heart skipped a beat.

She hadn’t expected to hear Jonathan’s name from Julian’s lips.

So… Jonathan had called her after all?