A painful marriage: Mr. CEO, let's get a divorce

In a dark corner of the bar.

The man toyed with the glass in his hand, watching as the wine slid slowly down the inner wall of the crystal. His eyes showed neither sadness nor joy, as if he were entirely oblivious to the noise and indulgence around him.

Yet, among the crowd, a voice so familiar it seemed engraved in his very bones echoed out, immediately catching his attention.

In that voice was a mixture of humility and desperation.

At the center of the dance floor, the dancers were gone. Only a burly gang leader and a woman with loose hair remained; she was kneeling, head bowed low.

The man gripped her hair tightly, pulling it back to her waist, and spat:

"It's just a kiss, isn't it? You think a bitch like you can react like that? You think you're better than me, Claude?"

"I'm just a girl who serves drinks. I don't know anything else. Please, forgive me," the woman replied, her voice trembling, her head still bowed.

No one noticed how her short nails were nearly digging into the polished tiles beneath her.

Strands of hair still covered part of her face.

The man in the corner frowned and slowly set his glass down on the table.

"You don't understand? Don't you know what it means to be a bar girl?" The fat man kicked her in the waist. "Trying to act innocent here, are you?"

"I've angered Mr. Claude. I apologize. If Mr. Claude doesn't want me, I'll ask Aunt Lynne to find him another girl," she said meekly.

"Shut up." The man hurled another kick, harder this time, right into her abdomen.

The frail woman flew more than a meter away.

Amid the jeers and laughter of the crowd, she crawled back to his feet.

Head lowered, her face was hidden behind her long hair.

Her once-sleek hair was now messy, cascading like a dark waterfall over her thin frame, making her look like a small, frightened creature. Nearly every man watching felt a dark desire stir within.

The fat man sneered at her, grabbed a bottle, seized her by the head, and forced the wine down her throat.

The scene was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a glass falling.

Following the noise, before he could even curse, the fat man turned around and hurriedly bowed with exaggerated respect.

"Mr. Dante. I didn't realize you were here. Please forgive me if I've disturbed you."

The man who had been sitting coldly in the corner, observing the entire scene, was none other than the only son of the Hendricks family from City B, the most promising heir of the Hendricks Group, second only to the Carwyn family: Dante Hendricks.

Once one of the city's most dazzling young elites, he had sunk into a life of debauchery and drink ever since the death of his former lover.

Rumor had it that the Hendricks and Carwyn families would soon be joined by marriage.

Dante kept playing