Divorce Failed My Wife's Secret Identities Shock the World novel Chapter 69

When they left the café, Jasper Jett couldn't hide his excitement.

"Maeve, congratulations. You got what you wanted."

Maeve, who'd just secured both property and money, looked oddly calm.

She tapped a few times on her phone. "Thanks for today."

Jasper Jett ruffled her hair. "Between us, don't even say that. It's what I'm supposed to do."

As he spoke, a bank transfer notification popped up.

He opened it, and froze.

The sender was Maeve.

Maeve lifted her phone, as if presenting evidence. "Legal fees. Check your account."

Jasper Jett let out a helpless laugh. "You actually paid me?"

"You know me," Maeve said. "I don't owe anyone favors."

For a moment, Jasper Jett had nothing to say.

He'd known her long enough to understand—Maeve never let debts, emotional or financial, hang in the air.

Maybe that was why the people who truly liked her would go to bat for her.

"Fine," he said at last. "If Miss Vance insists on tipping, refusing would make me look rude."

He pocketed his phone. "To honor your trust, I'll start pulling strings right now. I'll do everything I can to make sure the house is legally yours within three days."

Until the deed officially carried Maeve's name, anything could still change.

Maeve didn't pretend to be polite about it. "Then I'm counting on you for the next few days."

Jasper Jett asked, "Where to? Want me to drive you?"

Maeve approached a sales associate who looked like she'd been killing time. "How much is the teddy bear in the window?"

The woman was around thirty, dressed in the store's uniform. She wore towering stilettos, flawless makeup, and a slightly unbuttoned blouse. A large white pearl necklace sat at her throat like a badge.

When she saw Maeve, T-shirt, jeans, and a canvas tote that looked like it cost five bucks, her disgust wasn't subtle.

"Don't bother asking, sweetheart. I'm afraid the price would be too high for you." Her smile turned sharp. "If you really want one, take a picture and look for a similar one online. Maybe you'll find a ten-dollar version with free shipping."

Maeve hadn't expected that much contempt over a teddy bear.

She'd heard the stories—luxury salespeople who treated anyone they didn't consider "worth it" like dirt.

She just hadn't expected to run into one in person.

Instead of leaving, Maeve found a single armchair and sat down.

She twirled a pen between her fingers, unhurried, and smiled. "That's funny. You're comparing your store's product to a ten-dollar knockoff online."