Wooing My Ex-Wife

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.

knew you’d come, so I’ve been waiting for

coldly as 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

gaze and tone turned

to have fun with my friends. I just so happened to see Whitney in there. You should be thanking me

deny the first part of Charles’

you a few times. It’s only normal that I don’t like you, right? Then again, that doesn’t mean

nails from that afternoon, a

held a sense of superiority, looking down on others. This attitude fueled her determination not to let Charles show disinterest

her the order to win Charles over, for it would be a great help

a sight for sore eyes if Jessamyn were to spend her

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

More importantly, he feared that he would be unable to contain the anger and rage bubbling within his heart if he allowed himself

wouldn’t have bothered

Bring

further acknowledgment and made his way into Seduction Bar, leaving her

“You rarely go to places

response. With an icy gaze, he continued on his path, unaffected

Jessamyn led him to

saw the

say you’d take me to Whitney? Why did you

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. You can just watch the

not

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

gaze and slowly

already projected the real-time footage

with Whitney seemingly

scene lasted

far, everything seemed rather

She’s only singing a few songs. She’s making a living with

inwardly. Judging by his tone, he doesn’t seem to care about Whitney that much. Well, it makes sense. After all, no successful man would like their

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

on Charles’ face was grim, and the

were talking, Whitney put down the microphone as if she had

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