His Housewife Had Secret Identities

Niamh Rivers suffered a miscarriage. For ten years, she had loved Jonathan Thomas—abandoning her education, sacrificing her youth, enduring his indifference—until a discovered spreadsheet revealed the truth: she was merely a pawn in his ongoing affair with his first love.

As she lay recovering in the hospital, Jonathan was yachting with his sweetheart. That was when Niamh signed the divorce papers.

The meek housewife vanished overnight. In her place emerged:

The creative director of a luxury jewelry empire;

The exclusive mentor to a world-renowned pianist;

The champion of international racing circuits;

The long-lost heir to political royalty;

The billionaire CEO of a multinational conglomerate.

When her new life attracted powerful suitors, Jonathan returned pleading for forgiveness. Niamh's response was decisive: she staged her own death.

For months, Jonathan kept vigil at her empty gravesite, a broken man. Until the day he saw her across a crowded ballroom, more radiant than ever.

"Please," he begged, tears in his eyes, "come home."

Niamh arched one perfectly sculpted brow. "Mr. Thomas," she corrected coolly, "we have no home. Now if you'll excuse me, my date is waiting."