Dear Ex-wife Marry Me by Twin Bridge

Fitch's face still bore the imprint of Zoey's hand. Anyone claiming she hadn't put much strength into that slap would be telling

tales.

The stinging pain on his cheek was all he could focus on.

Ignoring Tyler's attempts to intervene, Fitch grabbed Zoey's wrist tightly and dragged her out of the bustling hall.

Carol made a move to follow but was stopped by Tyler.

"Ms. Miller, you can't get involved in their mess."

"What on earth is he planning to do?"

Tyler smirked, "After all these years, how many women have you seen lay a hand on Fitch? Even the Haskins elders wouldn't dare

cross him. Zoey's slap must have really ticked him off. But he's got a sense of restraint. He wouldn't actually hit a woman."

Carol scoffed, "You guys are all the same, no good men among you."

Her voice faltered, and she looked down, falling silent.

Tyler picked up a glass of wine from a nearby tray and took a sip, "Well, Ms. Miller, it all depends on what you consider 'good."

We've always judged by our conscience."

Carol didn't respond, her gaze fixed toward the villa as she lapsed into silence.

Meanwhile, Fitch had dragged Zoey to a secluded part of the garden.

"Let go!"

but

in pain, and then

chin was suddenly in his grip, forcing her to look up into

had used all her might

of madness, Zoey felt a surge of

memories of their rough encounters in bed

a

a perverse pleasure in it, as if

despised women, feeling nauseated by the mere touch

brief the had lost his memory, he had kissed her

You still have to cling

his eyes cold

How shameless

for a few tens of thousands, she had been nothing but an object to

he had been rough with her,

She never complained.

her

felt choked, unable

lost, giving him the right to hurt

began to fall again, landing on the back

hand trembled slightly,

instinctively wanted to pull back, but after a few centimeters, his grip tightened once

surged within him: anger,

out. Let's pretend we never

was gasping for air, tears her

but still felt an unsettling rage within. He had never been slapped by

presence behind him, his voice colder than

"Aren't you leaving?"