Dear Ex-wife Marry Me novel (Maja) novel Chapter 1304

Her gaze fell to the ground, silent, as the girl casually motioned to the nearby bodyguards.

"Get her out of here," she ordered with a sneer. "And remember her face. She's banned from our estate. Next time I see her, she'll get a taste of my fist. Trying to seduce someone? Of all people, my brother? Ugh, she made him show up late to the party."

Zoey was dragged away as if she were nothing more than a rag doll, her dignity and pride stripped away in an instant.

The well-to-do young ladies continued to cackle with glee.

"I've got the photos," one bragged.

"And I've captured the whole thing on video. If she dares show her face around my brother again, I'll use this to utterly humiliate her," another chimed in, as their laughter echoed through the night.

When Zoey was tossed out onto the street, her body felt as though it were falling apart.

She struggled to her feet, straightening her tattered dress as best as she could.

Inside the mansion, the young and influential of the family mingled, while the older generation had long retired for the night, leaving the hall a playground for the privileged. The man who just stayed with Zoey in his car, sat at the center, already several drinks deep.

The others quickly returned to their talk of the latest stock market buzz, ignoring Zoey's distress call. After all, the car keys were with the driver, who only took orders from the man himself. So, at worst, she had been merely threatened, nothing more.

He shrugged off the incident and dove back into the conversation about the economy.

As the group of women entered, he frowned briefly but didn't give it much thought. To him, Zoey was an outsider, and a little roughing up was no big deal. Occasionally, he stared blankly into his glass, not even understanding his own distraction.

Zoey had a long walk ahead of her, a stretch where taxis were scarce. She took off her high heels, clutching them in her hand, and trekked onward, guided by the streetlights.

Suddenly, a luxury car pulled up—a latecomer to the party. The driver, a cocky man, whistled at her. Her disheveled appearance and the marks on her neck led him to mistake her for a woman of the night.

"Hey, beautiful girl, need a ride? I can show you a good time," he offered.

Zoey ignored him and kept walking. The man, enraged at being snubbed, signaled his driver to grab her.

Hearing footsteps, Zoey broke into a desperate run, only to trip and fall, skinning her palms.