A girl that beautiful and that sharp—if she ever hit a dead end, you could practically steer her straight into show business.
With that figure, that face, that poise… if a studio was willing to build her up, she'd be a future A-lister. No question.
As if he'd read Corbin's thoughts, Andres leaned in and murmured a warning right against his ear.
"Don't get any ideas about my woman that you shouldn't have. To me, she's priceless."
"And if you cross that line, our friendship ends there."
Corbin blinked, genuinely surprised to hear Andres say something like that out loud.
Keeping his voice low, he asked, "So you're serious this time?"
Andres didn't hesitate. "Dead serious."
With that reminder ringing in his ears, Corbin's attitude toward Maeve shifted into something closer to respect.
He flashed them a smile and led them into the reception lounge. "Michael got here before you. He's inside waiting."
Across the room, Michael—tall as a tree—waved Maeve over like he was afraid she might miss him.
"Maeve! Over here—look, look!"
Maeve followed the sound and froze for a beat. Sitting beside Michael was another familiar face.
Still linked arm-in-arm with Andres, she walked over and greeted them first.
"Mr. Perez. Mr. Carson. Long time no see."
The man beside Michael was Carson—the one she'd only met once before.
Carson's attention snapped to Maeve the second she came into view.
Last time they'd run into each other, they'd been up on the top floor of that luxury mall, messing around with raw stones like it was a casual hobby. Even now, he still couldn't forget how unbothered she'd looked while picking material—like she was choosing apples at a market.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABEL
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Divorce Failed My Wife's Secret Identities Shock the World