How I Remarry My Ex-Wife by Alvin Humphre

Thiago’s visit left Whitney lying awake all night, brooding about the mess of things. It was not until five in the morning that she fell asleep. 

At 8 a.m., Hayden appeared at the studio entrance dressed in white sportswear. 

The moment the doorbell rang, Whitney jolted awake. She took out her phone and checked the time, immediately annoyed. “Who is it?” 

When the door opened, Hayden, in his menacing rakish demeanor, took off his sunglasses and frowned when he saw her dark eye rings. “Did you rob a house last night? 

“What are you doing here, Hayden?” Whitney’s annoyance vanished at once. 

Since divorcing Thiago, she had become increasingly dependent on her family and so couldn’t bear to be mad at 

them. 

Hayden leaned against the door frame. “Just passing by to remind you that Dad wants you home for dinner tonight. Don’t spend all your time in the studio every day. Dad said that if you don’t go back, he’ll come here to accompany 

you. 

‘Not again, she mused. Whitney rubbed her forehead, utterly frustrated. “I’ll go back once I finish things up here. I’ll 

call Dad. 

“Take care of yourself. Hayden put on his sunglasses and turned to leave, only to suddenly recall something. “Let me know if Thiago starts bothering you,” 

Why is he talking about Thiago out of the blue? Whitney wondered in confusion but didn’t probe, merely nodding in agreement. 

After seeing Hayden off, Whitney remembered that there would be a new product preview showcase of Indigox in the afternoon. It was a highly crucial factor as to whether she could clinch the partnership. 

Seeing how worn out she looked in the mirror, she seriously wished to slap Thiago again. 

Whitney quickly put on makeup and changed into a black suit. When she drove to the venue, almost all the invited guests had arrived, and Thiago could be seen among them at first glance. 

As if sensing her, Thiago unexpectedly looked back, and their eyes met momentarily before they both looked away. 

Whitney found a seat and carefully studied the products to be showcased and the philosophy Indigox wanted to convey. This was the most basic and vital factor in partnering with Indigox. 

Only when they shared similar views could it work out. 

Around the display stand for each product was an ambassador whose job was to observe if any guests fit Indigox’s criteria for a partner. 

“Could you take it out for me to have a look?” Whitney came to the sixth display stand and pointed at the displayed diamond ring. 

Before the ambassador could answer, Thiago’s voice rang out. “Diamond rings have always been more for ornamental use than practical use. Only when they’re placed under an exquisite spotlight can their beauty be maximized.” 

Whitney bit her tongue. 

“What do you think, Ms. Collins?” he asked. 

Whitney smiled suppressed her anger, and answered gently, “Sure. Mr. Mackenzie, but it’s all about ‘minimalism‘ these days. People don’t go for the flashy, impractical stuff like they used to.” 

“Oh?” Thiago’s chuckle was deep and confident. Whitney’s progress was undoubtedly great, but she still lacked the sensitivity of a businessperson. “And you’ve looked into this trend? Do you actually know who’s buying? How many “minimalists‘ out there are splurging on diamond rings?” 

This series of questions put Whitney in a tight spot. The ambassador’s scrutinizing gaze made her uneasy, and Thiago did not hide the smugness in his eyes at all. 

However, she had to admit that he was right. Minimalism might be trending among the fashion–savvy and financially aware, but most folks still think the more bling, the better. They can’t explain why they love diamonds; they just do And demand always sparks supply. 

Indigox was a major globally renowned brand, but at the end of the day, it was a company concentrating on making profits. Ideals in their products weren’t just for show–it was about connecting with buyers to keep the cash flowing. 

“Yeah, you’ve got a point,” she conceded with a half–smile. No point in arguing; she could dig herself into a deeper hole, especially with Thiago possibly looking to knock out the competition. 

But then he surprised her. “However, you’ve got a case for minimalism. It fits today and probably will for a long time.” 

Is he giving me an out? Whitney pondered, but she didn’t want to accept his kindness. With a smile, she walked to another display stand but lost the mood to see the products. 

As the preview wound down, her phone buzzed with a text from Hayden: Charles was back in town and planning to swing by Indigox–clearly because she was there. 

As Whitney didn’t want to expose her identity for the time being, she grabbed her bag and hurriedly left before her father arrived. Thiago was talking to someone when he caught sight of her leaving. He frowned. 

At the elevator, Whitney ran into Megan. Whitney gave her a once–over, her face a mask of cool indifference. 

Megan, who had been looking Whitney up and down, instantly became dissatisfied, thinking Whitney was trying to block her path. Belonging © NôvelDram/a.Org.

milky white 

“Hey, what are you doing?” Whitney’s bag was yanked by Megan and thrown on the floor. Looking at the n haute couture bag on the floor, Megan felt much more pleased. 

It was Drum’s new haute couture product this fall and had only been exhibited and modeled once. Megan had tried. her best to purchase it but to no avail, so she couldn’t stand to see Whitney having one. 

Whitney glanced at the bag and then turned to Megan. “Pick it up.” 

Megan scoffed. “It’s your mess. You pick it up.” 

ag on the floor? 

Whitney wanted to laugh. After all, who in the right mind would throw their own bag 

Megan was spoiled as usual, but Whitney was no longer the same. ‘She won’t pick it up? Sure. I don’t like forcing others anyway, Whitney thought. 

Ding! 

The elevator dinged, and Megan tried to slip past, but Whitney wasn’t having it. She grabbed Megan, spinning her around to face the wall. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt, but the insult was clear. 

0 

“How dare you hit me? Do you have any idea who I am? Incensed, Megan shouted at the top of her voice, looking nothing like how the daughter of the Mackenzie family should act. 

The disdain in Whitney’s eyes was clear as day. 

“What? Trying to use your personal influence to intimidate me?” Whitney sneered. “Oh, using your family’s name to scare me? We live in a country with laws, you know. You seem well–off. Didn’t you learn any manners?” 

BEND DIT