Wooing My Ex-Wife by Mr. Adeel

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.

A smug smile formed on her face when she noticed the man approaching from his car. “I knew you’d come, so I’ve been waiting for you here. What do you think? Am I considerate enough?”

woman coldly as he confronted her, saying, “Jessamyn, your attitude during the date that day tells me you don’t like me

sentence, his gaze

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

not deny the first part of

like you, right? Then again, that doesn’t mean I won’t like you in the future after getting to

freshly done nails from that afternoon, a smug

to let Charles show disinterest in her, nor would she permit him to choose

father had given her the order to win Charles over, for it would be a

sight for sore eyes if

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

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

Charles wouldn’t have bothered to

Whitney? Bring me to

Jessamyn without further acknowledgment and made his way into Seduction Bar,

rarely go to places like this, huh? That’s unexpected. I didn’t think you’d be so

not to dignify Jessamyn’s presence with a response. With an icy

of minutes later, Jessamyn led

he saw the

take me to Whitney? Why did you bring me

their fun if I take you to the private room. Anyway,

did not

brow smugly. “I’ve informed the person in charge of the surveillance room, anyway.

retracted his gaze and slowly

had already projected the real-time footage from Whitney’s private

six men sitting on a couch with Whitney seemingly singing

lasted for two

far, everything

what you meant by despicable? She’s only singing a few songs. She’s making a

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 future wife to come to a

and dancing won’t be enough to satisfy a

on Charles’ face was grim, and the emotion in his

talking, Whitney put down the microphone as

middle-aged man held up a wine glass and staggered over

the side, causing the man