He Chased His Ex, I Axed the Vows

This time, it wasn’t just Elina Guzman spinning lies.

A sudden fire ripped through the Spencer Group’s Alpine Hotel, swallowing the entire banquet hall where a charity gala was in full swing. All the guests—every last influential, billion-dollar name in the room—were trapped inside. And Elina Guzman was one of them.

By the time Rayan Spencer pulled up to the scene, the flames were already contained. But online? The rumors were spreading faster than wildfire. The fire damage itself wasn’t catastrophic, but the impact? It hit hard. Overnight, Alpine Hotel—and the Spencer Group behind it—were dragged straight into the center of a public firestorm.

Maya Spencer found out the next morning, while Rayan was already holding an emergency press conference, vowing he’d take full responsibility. The whole incident was blowing up all over social media. Maya’s first thought? She’d misread Rayan completely the night before.

Alpine Hotel was Rayan’s first big project after stepping back into the company. It wasn’t literally his child, sure, but he’d poured three years of blood, sweat, and late nights into building it. With the fire and injured guests, there was no way he could weasel out of taking the blame. But then she noticed: Rayan’s personal life was getting way more attention than the fire itself.

Blurry photos of him with Elina outside the hospital leaked online. And because the shots weren’t clear, everyone jumped to the wrong conclusion—that the woman on his arm was his wife. Before anyone knew it, hashtags like #RayanSpentTheNightWithHisWife, #RayanAndHisWifeAreEndgame, and #CoupleGoalsThatActuallyWarmYourHeart pushed all the negative fire news straight off the top of the trending list.

The comment section was full of gushing:

― “Wow, rich, handsome, and loyal to his wife? Guys like Rayan Spencer are one in a million.”

― “I’d give anything to be Rayan’s wife, honestly.”

― “All the divorce gossip was total garbage! These tabloids can’t get anything right.”

― “Take notes, fellas. Spoil your wife and you’ll live a good life.”

Maya could only stare at the screen, the irony so thick it choked her. Everyone else could mix up the faces, but she couldn’t. Even through the blur, the photos conveniently framed them as the perfect pair, the obvious affection between them practically jumping off the screen. She’d daydreamed about moments like this a hundred times before, but seeing it like this—even secondhand—hit way harder than any fantasy. It felt like her heart was about to split open.

She still loved Rayan, deeply. He was handsome, brilliant, driven, disciplined, didn’t smoke or drink or have any of the messy bad habits most rich men hid. He was perfect in every way that mattered. But he just didn’t love her back.

With a steady resolve, Maya zipped up her suitcase and walked out the door.

Meanwhile, Rayan was neck-deep in damage control. As soon as the stock market opened that morning, Spencer Group shares plummeted. But the company’s PR team was sharp—they’d been steering the narrative since the first second the fire broke out. Right after Rayan’s press conference wrapped, they leaked those blurry hospital photos on purpose. The move shifted all the public focus, and cemented Rayan’s image as a responsible, devoted “good man” overnight.

Public opinion flipped fast:

― “It was arson! Any normal hotel would’ve burned to the ground. Alpine used top-tier fireproof materials—only the ceiling went up. That’s why it wasn’t worse.”

― “So many CEOs run and hide when things go wrong. Rayan stepping up personally proves the company actually cares.”

― “How he treats his wife says everything about his character. You can trust this man.”

― “Rayan’s so hot, the Spencers are literally the perfect couple!”

By the afternoon, Spencer Group’s stock bounced all the way back from its morning low, soaring and closing stronger than ever. It was a textbook PR win—crisis management at its finest.

---

In a private VIP hospital room, Elina Guzman slammed the tray of food her mother had offered straight off the side table. “I’m not eating. How many times do I have to say it? Ugh…”

Her arm was badly burned, the pain throbbing nonstop, enough to make anyone snap. Her father, Baylor Oliver, frowned from beside the bed. “Why take your anger out on your mother?”

Frustration bubbled over, and Elina shot back, “You’re blaming me? You said a little burn would be enough! Look what you did—you burned me this bad. You’re not the one stuck here hurting, so don’t act like you get it.”

“If it wasn’t serious, why would Rayan even care?” Baylor argued, calm and patient. “I heard Maya already filed for divorce. This is the perfect opening—you have to take it.”

Elina sank back against the hospital pillows, her gaze going empty. Just a few days earlier, Rayan had looked her in the eye and told her he couldn’t give her much right now. He had to think of his wife’s feelings.

To Elina, that meant Rayan wasn’t nearly as done with Maya as all the gossip said.

“Didn’t you see how panicked he was last night? His heart’s already with you,” Baylor pushed.

Elina scoffed. “It’s his hotel that burned down, and I’m the only one who got hurt. Of course he’d act worried. What did you expect?”

“You always see the worst side of everything. Look at today—Spencer turned a disaster into a win with that ‘perfect couple’ trending garbage. Smart move, I’ll give him that. The Spencer couple, please. Could Maya even handle that title?”

Elina rolled her eyes. “Keep your paparazzi on a tight leash. If this blows up in our faces, Spencer’s good for more than just crisis management, okay? He’ll ruin us.”

“Relax. No one’s tracing this back to me.”

“If you wanted me to have him so bad now, why did you make us break up back then?”

Elise Oliver—Elina’s mother—had just finished cleaning up the scattered food from the floor, and chimed in, “Your father couldn’t see the future back then, he just…”

“Shut up,” Elina snapped, cutting her off. “You did this too! Three years ago, when Rayan recovered from his illness, I wanted to come back. You wouldn’t let me.”

“He almost died! Even after he recovered, how could we know he’d be okay? What if he ended up disabled for life?”

Elina pressed her lips together and said nothing. She’d never wanted to take care of a disabled man, anyway.

Baylor pressed on, leaning in. “You know how bad our family’s finances are. No one but Rayan can save us now. For this family—for you—you have to go for it now, baby.”

A flicker of hope sparked in Elina’s eyes. She grit her teeth, pushing past the burning ache in her arm, and said, “Discharge me. Arrange a meeting with Maya.”

Elise, worried sick, protested, “Honey, there’s no rush, you still need to…”

“Why are you still talking when I told you to be quiet?” Baylor pulled his wife back, and handed Elina her phone. “Strike while the iron is hot. This is our only shot.”

Maya was in the middle of cleaning up Soleil Wells’s apartment when the call came through. The place was smaller than the gym at Rayan’s mansion, but it was cozy, easy to keep tidy, and it felt like home.

She’d never been the type to expect someone else to spoil her. She’d learned to stand on her own two feet when she was just a kid.

“Hello? Who is this?”

“Maya, sorry to bother you. It’s Elina Guzman.”

Maya hesitated for half a second. “What do you want?”

“I was hoping I could buy you coffee, if you’re free.”

“Not free,” Maya said, and turned her down flat. The world was really backwards these days—cheaters had no shame, homewreckers were bold enough to ask you out for coffee like they’d done nothing wrong. If you called them out for it, they’d call it true love. Whatever.

She wasn’t giving her the time of day. Don’t come looking for trouble if you don’t want trouble.