Divorce Failed My Wife's Secret Identities Shock the World novel Chapter 92

Right in front of Maeve, who looked genuinely startled for once, Anya suddenly coughed, and blood spilled across her lips.

Anya panicked instantly. "I—I'm bleeding? Why am I bleeding? Maeve, what did you do to me?"

Maeve just stared. She hadn't done anything.

Anya's body went slack. Before she could spit out another accusation, she collapsed to the floor and passed out cold.

Then Maeve noticed it—an oddly sweet scent hanging in the air, cloying and wrong.

She glanced toward the doorway and saw several men's silhouettes slip past.

So that was it.

Someone had set this up.

And strangely, the realization brought a flicker of curiosity—like a scientist spotting an unfamiliar species.

Maeve's vision blurred.

A second later, she sank into darkness too.

On the cruise ship's deck, wind ripped across the water, kicking up waves hard enough to make the sea look angry.

In another half hour, they'd reach a deserted island.

According to the itinerary, the ship would circle the island once and then turn back.

Andres stood at the rail, letting the sea air whip at him. His shirt hem snapped in the wind, and the disarray of his hair only made him look more dangerously alive.

"I didn't take you for the type who enjoys ocean views, Mr. Andres."

Declan approached after finishing with a few business associates. He lifted two glasses from a passing server's tray and handed one over. "Drink?"

Andres accepted it, clinked Declan's glass without ceremony, drained it in one go, and returned the empty to the server.

"See you around," he said, already turning to leave.

Declan stopped him. "Mr. Andres. Not even a conversation?"

"And let's be honest—substitutes stay substitutes. They don't replace the original."

Andres's voice cooled. "After all that useless commentary, what point are you trying to make, Mr. Fulton?"

Declan met his gaze. "Instead of digging for hope in a replacement, why not let go of the past and start over with a woman who actually fits you?"

Andres laughed.

Declan frowned. "What's funny?"

A hint of contempt slipped into Andres's eyes. "You—standing here, playing philosopher, giving me advice. Don't you hear how ridiculous it sounds?"

"Everyone in our circle knows what's around your neck," Andres went on. "Those chains will walk you straight into a lifetime tragedy."

Declan's expression darkened instantly.

Andres patted his shoulder, almost kindly. "You were born as a tool for your family's interests. That alone makes your life a tragedy."