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.

she noticed the man approaching from his car. “I knew you’d come, so I’ve been waiting for you here. What do you

day tells me you don’t like me and even look down on

uttered the last sentence, his gaze and tone

friends. I just so happened to see Whitney in there. You should be

did not deny the first part of

normal that I don’t like you, right? Then again, that doesn’t

freshly done nails from that afternoon,

determination not to let Charles show disinterest in her, nor would she permit him

Charles over, for it would be a great help to

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

in her self-centered thoughts, Jessamyn remained oblivious to Charles’ efforts to suppress

be unable to

old self, Charles wouldn’t have bothered to treat insolent women with any semblance of gentlemanly

Whitney? Bring me

walked past Jessamyn without further acknowledgment and made his way into

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

presence with a response. With an icy gaze, he continued on his path, unaffected by her words

of minutes later, Jessamyn led him to

his head, he saw the words printed on the door—surveillance

to Whitney? Why

shots in the private room now. We’ll be ruining their fun if I take you to the private room. Anyway, I just wanted to show you how despicable of a woman she is. There’s a surveillance camera in the private room.

did not make any

that, Jessamyn opened the door and raised her brow smugly. “I’ve informed the person in charge of the surveillance room, anyway. This way,

retracted his gaze and slowly

had already projected the real-time footage

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

scene lasted for two

everything

despicable? She’s only singing a few songs. She’s making a living

sense. After all, no successful man would like their future wife to come to a

and dancing won’t be enough to satisfy a woman like her. Who knows?

was grim, and the emotion in his eyes

put down the microphone as if she

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