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 you here. What do you think? Am I

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

last sentence, his gaze and tone turned

friends. I just so happened to see Whitney in there.

not deny the first part

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

arms, playing with her freshly done nails from that afternoon, a smug expression

a sense of superiority, looking down on others. This attitude fueled her determination not to let Charles show disinterest in her, nor would she permit him to choose what she deemed as an inferior and

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

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

oblivious to Charles’ efforts to suppress his growing

an argument with someone like Jessamyn. More importantly, he feared that he would be unable to contain the anger and

bothered

Bring

issuing the stern directive, Charles walked past Jessamyn without further acknowledgment and made

to places like this, huh? That’s unexpected. I didn’t think

Jessamyn’s presence with a response. With an icy gaze, he continued on

later, Jessamyn led him

he saw the words printed

to Whitney?

“She’s having fun with the big 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. You can just watch

did not make any

brow smugly. “I’ve informed

gaze and slowly entered the

footage from Whitney’s private

with Whitney seemingly singing on the small stage in front

scene lasted

everything seemed

few songs. She’s making a living with her capabilities. Which part

it makes sense. After all, no successful man would like their future wife to come to a place like that to perform for other men. Looks like

won’t be enough to satisfy a woman like her. Who knows? There might

grim, and the emotion in his

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

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