Divorce Failed! My Wife's Secret Identities Shock the World novel Chapter 205

It explained everything.

How Maeve could livestream and still rattle off names and personal details with terrifying speed and accuracy.

When someone operating at that level made a move, the whole room felt it.

Andres was stunned too—if Maeve truly was ZERO, it wasn't just impressive. It was explosive.

Meanwhile, more gifts poured in. Mateo Fulton, Elena, and others showed their support one after another.

Tonight's livestream was better than prime-time drama—no contest.

Even Maeve hadn't expected one broadcast to summon so many people from her life.

G: That's my girl. Proud of you.

It was a small, easy-to-miss message, quickly swallowed by the flood of comments.

Maeve caught it instantly.

But when she tried to trace the account, the person had already logged out—cleanly—and deleted the account entirely.

Maeve clenched her jaw.

Griffin, that old snake. Playing hide-and-seek with her again.

With the room's energy and the viewer count hitting its peak, Maeve didn't intend to waste the moment.

"It's time we talked about Ansel Morales."

Her voice snapped the audience back into focus.

Right—this was why everyone had come in the first place: to attack Maeve for "abandoning" her brother when he was sick.

People had assumed it would be the one subject she avoided.

Instead, she brought it up herself.

Willow: Elaine and those trolls are awful, but the patient is innocent.

Weeirdo: I saw Mr. Morales's video. He's so pitiful… only twenty, facing life-or-death, and that awful Jenny trying to extort him.

Diet Starts Tomorrow: I hate Jenny forever.

This one was smug, foul-mouthed, and greasy.

A guy with purple hair laughed and asked, "You look way too healthy for someone dying. You sure the hospital didn't misdiagnose you?"

The speaker was Emilio Rodriguez.

Even the livestream viewers could see it—Ansel didn't look sick at all.

Ansel slid a cigarette from the pack and toyed with it like it was a prop, grinning at the attention.

"Between us," he said, almost dreamy, "my dad got his hands on some miracle meds. Three days. That's all it took for me to go from ICU to a regular room."

Emilio blinked. "Seriously? Where'd he get that?"

Ansel shrugged. "I asked. He wouldn't tell me. Just told me to take it on schedule."

Emilio leaned in. "So do you still need a kidney transplant?"

Ansel's smile turned sharp. "Of course I do. I have to."

"My dad said that bitch Maeve? She's my kidney container."