Dear Ex-wife Marry Me by Twin Bridge

Quentin was tall and big. His intimidating stature alone was enough to persuade the group of skittish girls to beat a hasty retreat, their heads hung low in defeat. During the confrontation, two of Alva’s bodyguards arrived. They were no slouches, clearly trained fighters, and they went to work on Quentin, leaving his cheeks swollen and bruised. But he stood his ground, a steadfast sentinel, refusing them entry. For a solid hour, he held the line. Meanwhile, Maja watched her personal share value curve upwards with a sly smile. The simplicity of the rules here made things so much easier. Once she’d set her mouse aside and looked up again, she was met with the sight of Quentin, his face smeared with blood, his neck marked with bruises. The bodyguards weren’t faring much better. After an hour of scuffling, they were still deadlocked, neither side conceding defeat. Quentin was badly hurt, nearly passing out against the wall for support. Maja sighed, this poor fool. He had no clue what she was up to and yet had thrown himself into the fray believing in her. The bodyguards stood at the door, panting and pointing accusatory fingers at Maja. “You, you’re coming with us to the Brennan family!” “No need to take me anywhere. The Brennans will be here soon enough.” The bodyguards furrowed their brows, puzzled by the woman’s confidence. Right then, their phones buzzed. It was Alva, calling them back. Trouble had struck the Brennan family. Once the bodyguards had left, Maja rushed over to Quentin, steadying him. “Are you alright?” Quentin shook his head, blood from his forehead dripping down in heavy drops. Onlookers had gathered, a crowd of students and even some faculty members, including the principal, who was there with his typically sanctimonious air, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Maja, it’s your first day, and already you’ve caused quite the stir. You damaged the work place, and now this. Are you prepared to cover the damages?” Maja, supporting Quentin, had intended to take him to the school’s infirmary, but that plan was quickly dissolving. Quentin’s vision was blurry, his sense of smell overwhelmed by iron. He could barely make out the chatter around him, but one thing was clear: Maja was in trouble. Crossing the Brennans could mean jail time. In this world, money was power, and those without it remained at the bottom, their wealth concentrated among a few influential families who never let it trickle down. This was the grim reality of Forbidden Island’s rules—resignation for the lower

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