Dear Ex-wife Marry Me

Nolan hung up the phone and massaged his eyes, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. He sent up a silent prayer, hoping against hope that his mom was okay.

Meanwhile, Zoey found herself in a dire situation at the Jones residence, a duplex mansion sprawling over two floors, all belonging to the Jones family. The old man who had dragged her there pushed her onto a couch, where she hit her head against the wooden armrest, a painful lump forming instantly. It was enough to jolt her to full alertness.

In her blurred vision, she saw Mr. Jones beginning to disrobe with a disturbing eagerness. "Ms. March, from the moment I saw you at the office, I knew I liked you. And it turns out, I'm still single, and so are you. We could be a perfect match. Let's just get down to it, and once you're expecting, I'll give you a wedding. Don't worry, I'll break it off with all those other women immediately!"

Zoey's face turned ghostly pale. As Mr. Jones lunged at her, she tried to dodge, but the drugs in her system left her weak and sluggish.

Mr. Jones, missing his grasp, grew irritated but quickly regained his excitement. "Where do you think you're hiding, Zoey dear? Did you think someone would come to save you? Everyone I set my sights on ends up in my bed!"

Stumbling forward in an attempt to escape, Zoey tripped and fell. Mr. Jones grabbed her by the ankle, dragging her back as she felt an overwhelming urge to vomit, especially at the sight of his greasy face. "Let go of me!" she demanded, her tone angry yet somehow sounding enticing to Mr. Jones's twisted mind.

He was about to lift her skirt when she blurted out, "I'm on my period. Doesn't that disgust you?"

His reaction only grew more perverse. "Even better, I haven't had that experience yet."

Zoey's desperation peaked. She grabbed a nearby mug and hurled it at Mr. Jones.

The situation escalated until Mr. Jones, losing his patience, slapped Zoey hard across the face, declaring, "You should be grateful I'm even looking your way!" Even in her weakened state, Zoey glared back, full of fury.

Mr. Jones was about to force

himself on her when the front door was kicked open, and in came Gemma, disheveled and crying, followed by a group of imposing bodyguards and Fitch, with Nolan in tow.

Mr. Jones quickly scrambled to fix his appearance. "Who dares interrupt me?" he blustered, only to fall silent at the sight of Fitch.

Recognizing Fitch, whom he had uncomfortably mingled with at a welcome party, Mr. Jones's confidence wavered. "Mr. Haskins, what brings you here?"

Fitch's calm demeanor belied the storm brewing within. He was known for his terrifying calm.

As Mr. Jones nervously swallowed,

before he could even react, he was struck by a chair, blood gushing from his head. Fitch stepped on him, demanding to know which hand Mr. Jones had used to harm Zoey.

Mr. Jones's pleas for mercy were cut short as Fitch crushed his hands, one after the other, underfoot, leaving him as helpless as a beaten dog.

Gemma, witnessing her father's

brutal punishment, turned pale with fear. She had known Fitch was not to be trifled with, but she hadn't expected such ruthlessness. Trembling, she began to beg for mercy, admitting her wrongs and Vowing never to threaten Nolan again. Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.