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Dear Ex-wife Marry Me by Twin Bridge

Chapter 1647
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Mia was cursing up a storm, her face contorted in rage.

Zoey, dragged along by Fitch's brute strength, felt as if her arm might snap at any moment.

She stumbled behind him, nearly tripping over her own feet multiple times.

But Fitch, with his lack of chivalry, didn't bother to slow down for her.

He led her to the farthest bedroom down the hall, and kicked the door open with his long legs before tossing her onto the bed.

Zoey hit the mattress so hard that she felt her insides churn. She curled up, coughing; with her hair damp with sweat, she looked

rather pitiful.

Fitch towered over her with a sneer. "You said she had it coming?"

Zoey's mind was clouded with pain, the sense of injustice threatening to drown her. She felt like she couldn't breathe.

She was fed up, truly fed up with this sibling.

"Yes, doesn't she deserve it?"

Fitch chuckled darkly, lighting up a cigarette and bringing it to his lips.

"Zoey, | must say | underestimated you. So, you really were involved in this mess?"

Whether she admitted it or not, what difference would it make?

He would always suspect her.

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She said nothing, and Fitch took her silence as confirmation.

"Nice, Zoey. | always knew that the offspring of that kind of woman wouldn't be any good. You said Mia had it coming. Now it's your

turn to taste that flavor."

Zoey remained curled up on the bed, with tears streaming down her cheeks despite her effort to fight them back.

Halfway through his cigarette, Fitch called to the door, "Con in."

Two burly bodyguards entered the room.

"Sir."

Fitch glanced at Zoey on the bed; she was a bit too thin, yet still with a touch of pitiable grace.

"She's all yours," he said.

Zoey's eyes widened in disbelief; she thought she had hallucinations.

She tried to sit up, and her heart was racing as she heard him continue, "Make sure she enjoys herself."

"Fitch!"

Her chest felt shattered as she called out his name; her lips were trembling, and her fingers were clutching the sheets beneath her.

"Don't do this."

Fitch found her reaction amusing; flicking the cigarette butt into a nearby trash can, he seethed,

"So, you think Mia had it coming? Do you know what she went through? Your stepfather tormented her for an entire day and night,

Zoey. How heartless can you be to say such a thing?"

Zoey's mind buzzed. She had imagined a thousand different scenarios for Mia, but never this one.

How could her stepfather dare to lay a hand on Mia? Didn't he know the clout of the Haskins family in Greenfield?

Where did he get such audacity?

With all her might, Zoey climbed off the bed, her vision blurring as she stumbled toward Fitch.

"I didn't know, | really didn't."

He swatted her hand away, and lighted another cigarette, his frosty demeanor seeming to freeze her to the core.

"What are you waiting for?" he snapped at the bodyguards.

They hesitated, feeling conflicted, but these were Fitch's direct orders.

Dragging Zoey back to the bed, they looked to Fitch for any sign of mercy.

He leaned back against the door frame, seemingly observing the scene with detached interest, yet also appearing indifferent.

"Get off! Get off!"

Zoey's struggles were futile; she hadn't eaten in days and a bout of stomach iliness left her weak.

Her flimsy nightgown was no match for their force; it was torn away easily to leave little to the imagination.

Her eyes grew vacant, and as one of the men moved over her, she whispered hoarsely.

"Fitch, | don't understand. You said that you'd protect me, and wouldn't letsuffer. | really don't get it."

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A tremor ran through Fitch's hand which was holding the cigarette, and a memory flashed in his mind.

Back in that villa, Zoey had been anxious, constantly questioning him about what might happen if he ever reneged on his word.

He had promised not to let her suffer.

How foolish she was to believe such words.

Zoey had no strength left to fight. Biting her own tongue hard, she filled her mouth with the taste of blood.

The blood trickled down her chin, and that was as far as she could go; she couldn't bring herself to bite through entirely.

Jumping at her act, the bodyguards glanced at Fitch to see if they should proceed.

Fitch simply exhaled a plof smoke.

"What's the holdup?"

None were as ruthless as he.

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