How I Remarry My Ex-Wife by Alvin Humphre

Chapter 29 

With a lecherous grin, the man inched closer, his repulsive smirk enough to turn one’s stomach. Whitney continued to retreat until she had nowhere else to go. She blurted out in bewilderment. “My lock is custom–made. Not just anyone can get in. How did you manage to enter?” 

“What door can withstand our expertise? We’re not just skilled at picking locks. We’re quite adept in bed too, young lady. You’ll soon find out,” the man holding the phone replied, snapping pictures as he advanced. Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!

Unconvinced, Whitney probed, “Did someone tip you off about my whereabouts? Why the constant snapping? Someone’s pulling your 

strings, aren’t they?” 

They avoided answering her. One of them grew impatient and landed a slap on Whitney’s face. “Just cooperate. Why bother about who’s behind this?” he remarked. 

Thrown off balance by the slap, Whitney fell to the ground, her face burning with pain, a trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth. She glared at the man, and her defiance excited them further. “Feisty girl! I like it. I can’t wait to have my way with you,” one of them exclaimed eagerly. 

The man who struck her lunged forward, only to be met with Whitney’s swift kick, sending him sprawling. Enraged, the other two cursed vehemently as they witnessed the scene. “Damn! You have no idea when to give up, do you? How dare you resist? Watch how I deal with you!” One of them threatened. 

Before he could finish, Whitney landed a punch on his face, knocking him unconscious. 

Upon seeing this, the other man trembled in fear. He stepped back as he saw Whitney coming in his direction until he stumbled and fell. “Have mercy on me. We’re just hired to do this,” he pleaded, 

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Whitney placed her foot on his shoulder and bent down. She demanded, “Who sent you?” 

“I don’t know,” he whimpered. 

As soon as he finished his words, Whitney stepped on him hard, making him beg for mercy. He cried, “I really don’t know. It was a woman. To get paid, she told us to seek trouble with you and film it for her.” 

Whitney furrowed her brows, thinking, ‘A woman? Who could it be besides her?” 

Whitney kicked the man under her feet, causing him to pass out, then turned to the one who hit her earlier. The man was attempting to flee. Halting him in his tracks, she delivered a resounding slap without hesitation. 

“Think you can hit me? Let me show you what I’m capable of,” she said, delivering blow after blow until his face was bloody. Only then did she relent and retrieve the phone from the other man. 

“Call your employer. Tell her the job’s done and arrange a meeting point,” Whitney instructed. 

The man hesitated. He said, “If I deceive her, we’re dead.” 

Whitney scoffed, “You think anyone would know if I dispose of you three in the sea here?” 

The man immediately pleaded, “Please spare us. We were ignorant and shouldn’t have done this.” 

“I’ve had enough,” she snapped, picking up a fruit knife from the table. “I just bought this new blade. I’m sure you’ll depart swiftly,” she 

remarked. 

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As she reached out with the knife, the man promptly passed out. 

Whitney sighed in exasperation. She hadn’t expected him to faint so easily. With no other choice, she fetched some rope and bound them 

securely. 

After waking them by splashing water on them, she held the knife menacingly as the three men whimpered in fear, Pressing the blade against one man’s cheek, she demanded, “Call your employer. Tell her you’ve succeeded and arrange the exchange location.” 

The man quickly agreed. Whitney picked up the phone, instructing him to provide the number. After the call went through, he said, “We’ve succeeded. When will you pick her up?” 

Upon hearing that, the other person smirked sinisterly and said, “Think you can challenge me, Whitney? You don’t stand a chance.” 

Par Ro 

The person on the other end continued, “Meet me tonight at Vos Bar Room No. 7. I’ll pay you then. Everything’s been recorded, right?” 

“Yes. All recorded,” the man replied. 

“Good,” the other person replied before hanging up abruptly. 

The man who made the call looked at Whitney and said, “I made the call. Will you let us go now?” 

Whitney repeated, “Let you go?” She stood up and looked at them with a smile. “Do you think that’s possible? Just wait here. Someone will come for you,” she said. 

With that, she left, firmly shutting the door behind her, disregarding whatever protests the three men might have. 

Outside, she called her best friend, Lina Nolan, who was also one of the owners of Vos Bar, informing her of the day’s events. Lina was furious. “Who do you think is behind this?” she asked. 

“She used a voice changer, so I’m not sure. But I suspect it’s Quincey. She’s the only one who would do this to me,” Whitney fumed. Only Quincey and Megan came to Whitney’s mind as they loathed her. 

Lina nodded. It was clear that the mastermind behind this wanted to destroy Whitney. 

“Let me set the stage first. Bring them over; I’ve got a plan,” Lina said. 

“Okay, Jonah and I will bring them over in a while. See you later,” Whitney replied. 

After hanging up, Whitney called Jonah. When he arrived, he was visibly worried. He wrapped his arms around her and asked, “Are you all right? You scared me.” 

“Did you think I’d be in trouble? I’m more than capable of handling it,” Whitney said, smiling. Since leaving Thiago, Whitney managed her studio and relentlessly trained herself, acquiring new skills such as boxing. 

Jonah shook his head. Whitney was no longer a girl who needed to be protected. However, the stronger Whitney became, the more uneasy he felt, sensing her deliberate facade. Although Whitney seemed content now, Jonah couldn’t shake off his concerns. 

Together, they entered the room where the captives were held. Jonah moved to confront them, but Whitney held him back. 

“They didn’t get to lay a hand on me. Lina asked us to bring them over and said she’d thought of an idea,” Whitney said. 

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Jonah nodded and helped Whitney transport the three men to Vos Bar. Lina made them enter from the back door to avoid drawing attention. 

Lina greeted them fiercely inside the bar, delivering a swift kick to the three men. “Dare to touch my people? Fed up with living?” she 

demanded. 

As the three men shouted in pain, Lina singled one out. She ordered, “You! Go meet your employer later and pass her the flash drive.” 

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