Divorce Failed My Wife's Secret Identities Shock the World novel Chapter 21

The way Isla said "already settled" came out loaded.

Was it already settled that Anya would land a job at the White Group... or that she'd end up in Mr. Andres's bed? People could take their pick.

The Whites were one of those old-money dynasties everyone talked about in half-whispers—mysterious, untouchable, the kind of family that had been shaping the city for a century. If Anya really got tied to them, she'd be set for life.

Anya was still basking in the attention, soaking up the vanity of being fussed over like a princess, when Maeve showed up, and both Isla and Anya's faces changed at once.

Maeve had on a sporty, baseball-style set, casual and clean. Her long hair was pulled back at the nape, and a pair of oversized black sunglasses sat on her nose, nearly swallowing half her face.

Five-seven wasn't towering for a girl, but on Maeve it looked like perfection—long lines, balanced proportions, the kind of figure stylists tried to manufacture and rarely managed.

In the blink of an eye, Isla, drenched in diamonds, and Anya, wrapped head to toe in designer logos, lost their shine.

No wonder people called Maeve a walking work of art. The second she appeared, every gaze in the area slid right off the celebrity and her "genius daughter" and locked onto her instead.

The crowd rippled with excited whispers.

"Who is she? That body is insane. Those legs are better than anything I could Photoshop."

"Forget the body—look at her face. Even with those sunglasses on, you can tell she's drop-dead gorgeous."

It didn't matter if you were a guy or a girl, beautiful things made people curious.

Isla the star and her brilliant daughter were definitely eye-catching.

But theirs was the polished, packaged kind of beauty—carefully built. Next to Maeve's effortless, natural presence, it just didn't compete.

When Isla saw Maeve walking their way, her expression darkened, voice tight with irritation. "Why are you here?"

Maeve's smile was bright and sweet, like she hadn't just walked into a minefield. "Well, if it isn't the homewrecker stepmom."

The word landed in the open air between them, sharp and public, and Isla's composure cracked."Why are you here?"

Luka had only told her their son was doing a little better. He hadn't mentioned Maeve had gotten out.

The one speaking was a young man who looked like he belonged on the cover of a magazine—polished, composed, handsome in the effortless way money couldn't buy but often seemed to accompany.

Isla and Anya recognized him immediately.

They spent enough time at charity galas and society dinners to know exactly who he was: Mateo Fulton, heir to the Fulton family—another old-money name in Aethelburg that stood shoulder to shoulder with the Whites.

With Mateo publicly laying out Maeve's credentials, Isla and Anya didn't dare argue back. Not a single word.

Maeve had never been the type to swallow a loss.

She turned to the onlookers, voice bright, almost conversational. "These two are my stepmother and my little sister. They're terrified I'll take what's rightfully mine from my father's estate, so they'll do anything to smear me."

She gave a small, knowing shrug. "Everyone's heard the saying—when you get a stepmother, you get a stepfather too. You're all smart. You know exactly what that means."

When it came to twisting the knife, Maeve didn't just play the game, she wrote the rules. If she claimed second place, no one else would dare fight her for first.