Divorce Failed My Wife's Secret Identities Shock the World novel Chapter 71

Besides, Maeve had fixed that arm of his, the one that flared up like a bad habit whenever it felt like it.

Carson warned him quietly, "That woman who's giving her a hard time? She used to run with the celebrity crowd."

"And you want to jump in without knowing the full story?" he added. "You're not worried you'll get dragged into it too? Don't forget—we're not exactly ordinary guys."

With that reminder, Michael forced himself to swallow the impulse.

First, neither he nor Carson could afford to draw attention in a packed public place.

Second… he wanted to see whether Maeve could handle herself.

After what had happened at Club 1908, she'd left a mark on him. There was something about her—something off in the best way. Like a girl made entirely of secrets.

If it were anyone else, getting hit from both sides by Isla and a sales associate working in tandem, they'd either burst into tears or turn red-faced trying to defend themselves.

Maeve didn't do either.

She sat calmly on the sofa, twirling her pen, listening to their insults like she was killing time in a dentist's waiting room.

The onlookers assumed she'd been scared stupid.

In reality, Maeve was watching the saleswoman's tiny tells.

From the moment Isla walked into the jewelry store, the associate had instinctively pulled her shirt collar together, trying to hide the pearl necklace at her throat—like she was terrified someone might notice it.

If Maeve wasn't mistaken, that necklace came from a very specific designer.

And the funny part?

Its design language was almost identical to the pearl earrings Isla was wearing.

Two women choosing the same style could be written off as similar taste.

But the way the associate kept tugging at her collar—over and over—suggested something else entirely.

To really twist the knife, Isla smiled sweetly and said to the associate, "I'm here today to pick out a few pieces to take home."

"My daughter will be attending the yacht auction as Mr. Andres's companion. That kind of event deserves the most expensive jewelry."

In Aethelburg, Mr. Andres's name carried the kind of weight that didn't need an introduction.

The associate's eyes filled with envy. "Mrs. Morales, you really did raise an incredible daughter."

They were still playing their little duet when the associate's phone suddenly rang.

In her wildest dreams, Isla never would've imagined that the man holding the associate like that was Luka—her husband, the one who climbed into bed with her every night.

Isla snatched up the phone. The number flashing across the screen—

Wasn't that Luka calling?

The associate lunged to grab it back. Isla backhanded her away.

Then Isla hit answer and turned on speaker.

Luka's voice poured out, smug and impatient.

"I got us a room at the usual place. You've got thirty minutes—get over here. I'm in a bad mood, and I need to work it out the hard way."

Maeve almost lost it.

Why Luka was in a bad mood, she understood perfectly.

Two hundred million in cash, plus an old estate—gone.

Anyone would be furious.