Divorce Failed My Wife's Secret Identities Shock the World novel Chapter 530

Anya foolishly thought she was completely hidden in the shadows. She had no idea Maeve had spotted her the second she slunk into view.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, Maeve caught the venomous glare aimed directly at their retreating car. She turned to Andres, who was comfortably steering the wheel. "Did Anya Morales follow you?"

Andres didn't bother hiding anything. "She showed up at the Orca Group headquarters this morning and demanded I publicly announce our wedding date. Her reasoning? She found The Shadow Healer for me in a sea of millions." He was well aware he was being followed, just as he knew the pathetic motive behind her sudden, unhinged marriage proposal. Luka Morales's business was in a catastrophic freefall, and he was living in constant dread of bankruptcy. Selling off his daughter to the highest bidder was the only play he had left.

Maeve burst out laughing. "And did you announce it?"

Andres shot her a withering look. "Announce my ass. I don't have a wedding date with her."

Maeve laughed even harder. "Whitty! I didn't know you could swear!"

"It rubs off," Andres replied dryly.

"Are you blaming me?" Maeve teased.

"You're not mad?" Andres asked, genuinely curious.

Maeve lazily propped her chin on her hand, leaning comfortably against the passenger door. "What is there to be mad about?"

Maeve thought about it seriously for a second. "At first, I didn't care enough to suspect anything. Later on, I didn't need to."

Back when Quinn Hayes brought her to The Imperial, Maeve had immediately seen that Andres was purely using Anya. There was zero affection there. He just needed her hacking skills to locate The Shadow Healer and cure his mother's legs.

In all his years, Andres had never met a woman as fiercely rational and terrifyingly lucid as Maeve. Sometimes, he selfishly wished she were just a little more ordinary. He wished she would argue with him, throw a minor fit over some baseless jealousy, or just act a little possessive. Just so he could feel the intoxicating rush of being desperately wanted by the woman he cared about. But Maeve couldn't care less about wasting her breath on trivial romantic squabbles. From the day they met, she hadn't even bothered to ask who his exes were.

Maeve's philosophy on their relationship was crystal clear: If it works, they stay together. If it doesn't, they walk away.