Divorce Failed! My Wife's Secret Identities Shock the World novel Chapter 261

On the nightstand sat a digital photo frame, looping through a handful of pictures Andres had taken when he was younger.

In the photos, he couldn't have been more than sixteen or seventeen.

He wore a sharp-looking riding jacket, tall leather boots, and held a glossy black crop in one hand. His light-brown hair—soft, a little messy—caught the sunset like it had its own faint glow.

He looked like one of those angelic boys people only ever see in paintings—so good-looking it made your chest tighten.

Compared to that version of him, the Andres of today had long since shed whatever innocence he'd once had. Now he carried a blade-like edge, the kind of presence that made some people instinctively avoid meeting his eyes.

Staring at the boy in the frame, Maeve's mind drifted.

When Andres was seventeen or eighteen… what had she been doing?

She remembered. Raising hell with Charlie—turning every place they went into a disaster zone, leaving chaos in their wake like it was a hobby.

Andres saw her spacing out at his photos and couldn't help himself. He slid in behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"That one," he murmured near her ear, "I was seventeen."

Maeve stiffened for a fraction of a second, then relaxed into the closeness like she'd already decided it wasn't worth fighting.

"You were gorgeous."

His voice dipped. "Compared to now?"

Maeve had zero interest in answering a question that childish.

Instead, she reached back for his hand and pulled him straight toward the bed. "I want you. Right now."

He'd been about to tell her some story from his youth when she shoved him down onto the soft mattress.

The atmosphere went from airy and nostalgic to something much more… adult, so fast he almost didn't catch up.

"It's still daylight," he managed.

Maeve started undoing the buttons of his shirt. "Doesn't matter."

He tried—briefly—to reason with her. "I know you're desperate to have a baby."

She didn't slow down. "Good. Then you understand."

Then she leaned down, her lips near his ear. "A word of advice, don't fall for me. I'm heartless."

Andres was about to press the conversation further when she shoved him back again, leaving him no room to follow the thread.

In the face of desire, reason didn't stand a chance.

And Andres was in the prime of his life—restless energy, too much heat under his skin. He liked her mind, her bite… and he wanted her in a way he wasn't proud of.

It didn't take long before they were tangled up together, setting fire to everything.

Afterward, Maeve slipped into a heavy, hazy sleep.

When she woke, it was only three in the afternoon.

At some point, Andres had left.

On her phone, he'd sent a message:

"I'm talking to Warren about something. If you're bored, feel free to look around the estate."