Divorce Failed My Wife's Secret Identities Shock the World novel Chapter 95

Andres still didn't answer.

Lincoln rotated Anya back again. "Two different flavors. If it were me, I wouldn't know which one to spare either. So—let's make it a blind pick."

He laughed and actually shut his eyes, as if he were choosing a prize at a carnival.

Just as the mast began to swing Anya toward the sea, she screamed, "Mr. Andres—the person you told me to find… I found them!"

Andres's expression shifted. "Wait."

Because of that single word, the mechanism turned again—sending Maeve back toward the ocean side.

Lincoln's eyes lit up like he'd discovered buried treasure. "Well, well. So she's the real one. Uncle Andres's true love."

Andres wanted to say that wasn't what he meant.

But at the same time, he caught something in Maeve's eyes—sharp, fleeting.

Mockery.

Before he could read it, it was gone.

Lincoln didn't care about nuance. "If you've made your choice, I'll be generous and grant it."

He raised the handgun and leveled it at Maeve's forehead.

Something in Andres snapped taut. "Don't you touch her."

As Lincoln lifted the gun, Maeve's hand—somehow—held a small, glittering object.

She angled it toward him, catching the sea's reflected light and throwing it straight into his eyes.

Lincoln flinched, blinded for a fraction of a second.

The shot went off—just barely off target.

The bullet sliced through Anya's rope. She dropped from the height and hit the deck hard, stunned into silence.

The same bullet's path carried on, clipping Maeve's rope too.

Maeve tipped her body forward with the motion, and the rope snapped.

She landed on the deck with a dancer's lightness—one smooth, continuous flow of movement, so fast it hardly seemed real.

To catch a ghost, you needed brains—and the patience to let it think it was winning.

Lincoln looked like he'd been punched in the gut. "That's impossible!"

He refused to believe months of planning had been sitting neatly inside Andres's trap.

He jerked the gun up again. "Nobody move—or I'll blow his head off!"

Maeve stepped out from behind Andres, smiling brightly, as if they were at a party. "Hey. Want to see something?"

Lincoln's gaze snapped to her on instinct.

Maeve flicked her wrist.

A shard of broken mirror—what she'd used to blind him—shot toward him like a thrown blade.

It was tiny, but it hit with vicious speed.

Lincoln didn't even have time to understand what was happening. Pain exploded through his wrist, and the gun dropped from his hand and clattered to the deck.