He Chased His Ex, I Axed the Vows

Spencer Group, CEO’s Office.

Rayan Spencer had been turning his options over in his head for days, weighing every angle with clinical precision. In the end, he knew—It was time to dig up the truth. An offhand comment from Gustavo Walker had planted a seed of doubt that had been festering ever since.

"Brycen, I need you to get a hair sample from Karina Salazar for a DNA test," Rayan ordered, handing over the sample he already had.

Brycen Wells furrowed his brow, confused. "That’s Mrs. Spencer’s hair, right?"

Rayan’s glare cut sharper than a knife. "Just do it."

Brycen got the message immediately—no prying allowed. "Yes, sir. I’ll handle it right now."

"Wait," Rayan called before he could leave. "Also, dig into Gustavo Walker’s personal life. Find out if he’s got any other side pieces, and I want every last detail you can dig up."

Brycen had worked side-by-side with Rayan for years, pulling double duty as his assistant and most trusted confidant. Even when Rayan didn’t spell things out, Brycen could usually piece the puzzle together on his own.

"Keep this under wraps. No one finds out, especially not Mrs. Spencer."

"Understood. Anything else?"

"Schedule a meeting with Hayden Oliver for me."

"Got it."

Meanwhile, across town at Blue Hill Café, Maya Spencer was completely wrapped up in an animated conversation with one of her patrons.

Five years prior, this man had bought one of her silk art pieces, *Moonlit Pond*, for ten thousand dollars. In just five years, its value had skyrocketed ten times over—and it still had plenty of room to grow.

In the art world, rarity dictates value, and fine silk art only gets more coveted with time. After *Moonlit Pond*, Maya hadn’t created anything new… until recently, when she’d shared a design sketch for one of her fans online.

At first, she’d just been testing the waters. She never expected her long-time collector would jump at the chance to meet her face-to-face right away.

"Oh wow, so 'Apple' is actually this glowing young lady? You didn’t swipe *Moonlit Pond*, did you?" the patron teased.

It was a fair question. The level of craftsmanship in *Moonlit Pond* usually took decades of experience to pull off.

Maya smiled. "Mr. Frank Jacobs, you’re just teasing me. If I’d stolen it, wouldn’t it have been reported by now? Besides, I sketched the original, stretched the frame for the piece, and I still have the leftover fabric scraps. You can get it authenticated any time you want."

Frank Jacobs’s eyes went wide with shock. "You drew the original?"

"I did."

Frank was stunned. "Is this a family trade?"

"You could say that. Kids pick it up fast. I spent my whole childhood messing around on looms instead of hitting the books."

Soleil Wells, who’d been sitting nearby, couldn’t hold back a snort of laughter. Maya claimed she didn’t study much, but she’d aced every one of her exams and gotten into the prestigious Royal College of Art. Total classic humblebrag.

"Apple" was Maya’s childhood nickname. On a whim, she’d started posting her work under that pseudonym two years ago, just to see if all her hard work was actually worth anything on the market.

Unexpectedly, *Moonlit Pond* got snapped up by Frank Jacobs, and it just kept climbing in value under his care. It turned "Apple" into a known name in silk art circles.

But over the years, Maya had thrown herself into being a housewife, and she’d mostly let "Apple’s" growing fame fall by the wayside.

Frank handed her a business card. "Please, take this, Ms. Spencer."

Maya took it and saw he was a well-known collector, and also a director at the prestigious Jacobs Auction House.

Soleil’s eyes lit up at the name. She ran her own small gallery—sure, both galleries and auction houses deal in art, but getting into a major auction house is a whole different league. Most art never gets past mid-tier galleries, and her little spot was already scraping by.

Frank asked humbly, "May I have the honor of adding you on WhatsApp, Ms. Spencer?"

Maya’s smile was warm and bright. "Of course."

"By the way, that sketch for the fan is just a draft right now. The finished piece will take me about two weeks to complete."

"No rush at all. I know how complex silk weaving is. I’ll wait as long as you need. We can stay in touch over WhatsApp."

"Great."

The meeting went even better than Maya expected. She stayed cool and collected the whole time, but Soleil was over the moon.

As soon as they got in the car, Soleil gushed, "Holy crap, Apple, you know exactly how to wow people. When you make it big, you gotta throw me a bone, okay? My gallery is such a money pit—you wouldn’t believe how broke I am these days."

"That bad? Why don’t you ask your dad for help?"

"No way. I’d rather go hungry than sell out. Can’t afford stuffed ravioli? Fine, I’ll just eat plain."

Maya smiled, and said nothing.

They were heading toward Soleil’s apartment when Maya’s phone suddenly buzzed.

She glanced at the screen. It was a number she didn’t recognize.

"Hello? Who is this?"

"Good evening, Mrs. Spencer."

The second the caller spoke, Maya recognized the voice. It was Hayden Oliver, Rayan’s lawyer friend.

"I’m Mr. Oliver, Rayan’s attorney. I’d like to schedule a time to meet and discuss divorce proceedings."

Even though they knew each other, Hayden’s tone was stiff, totally detached.

Maya couldn’t really name what she was feeling. Surprised… but not really. Not all that shocked, anyway.

"I’m free whenever. You pick the time and place."

"Would 8 PM tonight at your home work for you?"

Maya paused. "Mr. Oliver, do you normally work this late?"

"It’s a rush job Mr. Spencer asked me to take on. My schedule’s completely booked until 7:30, and I’ve got a red-eye at 10 PM. If this doesn’t work for you, we’ll have to wait until I get back from my trip— that’s about two months from now…"

"That’s fine," Maya agreed right away. "See you then, Mr. Oliver."

"See you soon."

Even though Hayden was Rayan’s friend, he’d never been hers. In their five years of marriage, she’d never managed to fit into his social circle. It wasn’t for lack of trying, either—she’d had plenty of chances. Their lives had just grown too far apart.

Their paths were simply on completely different trajectories.

After hanging up, Maya sighed. "Soleil, take me back to Maple Estates."

"Huh?"

"Rayan’s lawyer wants to go over the divorce papers at 8 PM. It’s private, so better to do it at home."

"Makes sense," Soleil said, smoothly merging into the turning lane. "Five years of your life, and this is all his fault. If he doesn’t offer you at least a few million, I’ll lose every bit of respect I had for him."

Maya forced a smile. "It’s up to his conscience. Whatever he offers, I’ll sign."

She’d married him with nothing, and she didn’t expect to walk away with a fortune. All she wanted now was for this to be over, fast.

But as fate would have it, nothing ever goes according to plan.

When the ever-gentlemanly Hayden Oliver calmly dropped the bomb— that the divorce terms required her to pay Rayan Spencer fifty million dollars—Maya wordlessly picked up the spiced honey cake she’d set out for him.

She’d gone out of her way to be polite, pulling out a pretty platter and everything…but she’d rather feed this whole thing to the dogs than hand a slice to this ungrateful son of a bitch.

Hayden shifted awkwardly in his seat and quickly pushed the documents across the table. "Mrs. Spencer, the truth is Rayan is in massive debt. He looks like he’s on top of the world, but he owes hundreds of millions. These are all his liabilities—take a look for yourself."

Maya glowered at him, grabbed the entire cake platter, and stormed back into the kitchen, dumping the whole thing straight into the trash.

Hayden: "..."

"With that much debt, he doesn’t deserve a damn slice of dessert!"

Just as Hayden was about to argue the debt wasn’t his, Maya shot back with a sarcastic smirk, "Mr. Oliver, is the only reason you work nights because you’re hiding from debt collectors during the day?"

Hayden: "..."