Divorce Failed My Wife's Secret Identities Shock the World novel Chapter 66

Anya's eyes shimmered, as if she could summon tears on command. "If I'm going to help you find the Shadow Healer as fast as possible, Mr. Andres, then I need that USB drive."

It was a decent excuse, just not decent enough to move Andres.

Anya wasn't naïve. She knew one chip wouldn't buy her what she wanted.

"And… my mom's birthday is next month. I want to give her something special that day. You know, show her I haven't forgotten her."

When the family card landed, she immediately tossed another one on top.

"I'm fluent in English, Japanese, German, Italian, and French. If we run into foreign guests on the yacht, I can translate for you."

She was still pitching herself hard when Andres caught a familiar figure flicker past the upstairs landing.

It was only a flash, but he recognized her instantly.

Maeve.

The little troublemaker had more nerve than he'd given her credit for, hiding upstairs and eavesdropping.

Last night, she'd studied the invitation on the table like it meant something.

So she was interested in the offshore auction too?

A thin, mean spark of revenge lit in his chest.

Fine. He'd teach Maeve a lesson, one she'd remember. In his world, charm and cleverness only got you so far; you learned when to push, and when to back off.

And if he was honest with himself, it wasn't only about punishing her.

It was also a reminder not to let her get under his skin and steer him off course.

Ever since she'd barged into his life, he'd been feeling things he didn't need, extra emotions, unnecessary distractions.

Not a good sign.

He didn't feel like listening to Anya stack up more reasons, so he cut her off with a clean, satisfying answer.

"Fine."

Anya blinked, stunned by how quickly the door had opened.

He… actually agreed to take her?

Did that mean they were closer than before?

Andres' smile sharpened. "Try it. Beg."

Maeve walked around the sofa and slipped close behind him. Her pale arms looped around his neck, light but possessive.

Her lips brushed his ear, and her voice dropped to a private whisper meant for only the two of them.

"I'm just a small-town girl, you know. Never seen anything fancy in my life. This is the first time I've heard of an auction held out on the open sea."

Then, sweet as poison, she added, "Tell me, honey… a summer temp who makes, what, a couple grand a month, do you think she can afford those pretty jewels?"

Andres's control slipped for half a second.

He knew that "honey" wasn't innocent.

And still his heartbeat tripped.

"Maeve," he warned in a low voice, "don't play with fire."

Maeve's mouth skimmed the edge of his ear, slow and deliberate.

"If we're married," she murmured, "then that 'plus-one' spot… shouldn't it belong to your loving wife?"