The Ex and Her Riches

The sound of water flowing in the bathroom of the Newton residence abruptly ceased, replaced by tranquil silence that permeated the air.

Wearing a loose-fitting, dark grey bathrobe, Charles stepped out of the bathroom, his muscular arms half raised to dry his hair that was dripping wet.

His exquisite blue eyes looked relaxed, his nose was fine and straight, and his lips made him look even more charming when he smiled. With his facial features, he looked like a prince from a foreign land.

The glistening water droplets on his body added to the captivating allure he exuded, enhancing his already charismatic presence.

Every time after a shower, Charles had the habit of enveloping himself tightly in a bathrobe, rather than simply using a towel to cover the lower half of his body.

It was not that he had a poor figure. Rather, it was because of the indelible scars that remained from the beatings and torture he had endured in the past.

Charles held such disdain for his own body that he avoided looking at it whenever possible. He would ensure he was fully clothed before facing the mirror. Even then, he would only focus on his face, deliberately avoiding any glimpse of the rest of his physique.

Ring! Ring! Ring!

It was the sound of an incoming text.

Charles lowered his gaze casually. At first, he was not the slightest bit fazed by the text, but the keywords caught his attention.

It was from an unknown number, but the text contained Whitney’s name.

Immediately, he picked up the phone to read the text.

It read: I heard you’re going out on a date with Whitney tomorrow, but do you really know that woman? She doesn’t deserve you. Come to Seduction Bar. I’ll show you how despicable she can be.

A frown creased Charles’ forehead as his expression darkened.

The tone of the text sounded familiar.

Jessamyn’s the only person who knows I took Whitney away from the restaurant during the day. Seduction Bar’s a place where wealthy people have fun. Why would Whitney be there?

Realizing things were not as simple as they seemed, Charles entered the walk-in closet, quickly changed into something appropriate, and drove to Seduction Bar.

When he reached the bar’s entrance, he spotted a slender figure standing under the neon lights.

It was Jessamyn.

smug smile formed on her face when she noticed the man approaching from his car. “I knew you’d come,

he confronted her, saying, “Jessamyn, your attitude during the date that day tells me you don’t like me and even look down on me. So why waste your time on me and bully a

the last sentence, his gaze

her eyes arrogantly. “I’m here to have fun with my friends. I just so happened to see Whitney in

not deny the

that I don’t like you, right? Then again, that doesn’t mean I won’t like you in

her arms, playing with her freshly done nails from that

to let Charles show disinterest in her, nor would she permit him to choose what she

her father had given her the order to win Charles over, for it would be

would be a sight for sore eyes if Jessamyn were to spend her days with him in

her self-centered thoughts, Jessamyn remained oblivious to

engaging in an argument with someone like Jessamyn. More importantly, he feared that he would be unable to contain the anger and rage bubbling within his heart if he allowed

he been his old self, Charles wouldn’t have bothered to treat insolent women with any

Bring me to

without further acknowledgment and made his way into Seduction

along and walked beside him. “You rarely go to places

icy gaze, he continued on his path, unaffected

minutes later, Jessamyn led him to a

his head, he saw the words printed on

you say you’d take me to Whitney?

I take you to the private room. Anyway, I just wanted

did not make any

smugly. “I’ve informed

and slowly

projected the real-time footage from Whitney’s

sitting on a couch with Whitney seemingly singing on the small stage in

scene lasted for two

far, everything seemed rather

a few songs. She’s making a living with

doesn’t seem to care about Whitney that much. Well, it makes sense. After all, no successful man would like their future wife to come to a place like that to perform

glanced at the screen and said unperturbedly, “Why are you so impatient? Singing and dancing won’t be enough to satisfy a woman like her. Who knows? There might

grim, and the emotion in his eyes

put down the microphone as if she had finished

second, a disgusting middle-aged man held up a wine glass and staggered over to Whitney, wanting to get close and