Dear Ex-wife Marry Me

"Crash!"

When Abner hit the ground, his mouth filled with blood. The people training him stood by, cold and merciless. "This little bit of effort won't cut it. Your future opponents will be far tougher."

He spat out a mouthful of blood and slowly rose from the ground. Abner was tougher than most, but right now, his entire body was screaming in pain. His arm was twisted at an unnatural angle, a testament to the unimaginable pain he had endured.

"Cough, cough, cough."

He was bruised all over, except for his face, which was miraculously untouched. That was the deal he made with these men-no hits to the face, so Shirley wouldn't notice anything was amiss. "Don't just stand there, hit me."

Every punch Abner threw was blocked and returned with interest. His opponent's eyes flickered with a hint of satisfaction. When they first sought out Abner, they thought he would be a disappointment. After all, what could a kid abducted to the hills at a young age amount to? They figured he would probably drool over a couple of grand.

If that had been the case, they might as well have just put a bullet in him.

But Abner was growing on them, showing an uncanny talent in nearly everything, even getting them excited about his potential. With the right grooming, this kid might just win the old man's approval.

That was the goal. In two years, the successor would be chosen, and with Abner's father's favorite son out of the picture due to a sudden car crash, they were banking on Abner to come out on top.

But the competition was fierce, filled with ruthless characters. How could a kid from the hills stand a chance? That's why they had to train Abner in secret.

Luckily, the kid was a quick study, a chip off the old block. The old man would've been proud.

"Crash!"

Abner hit the ground again, but this time he got up quickly, spitting out a bloody glob, determined not to give up yet. The man in the black suit had told him, land ten good hits, and he'd earm another $60,000. That money could clear all of Shirley's debts, with some to spare.

He had to do it for Shirley, no matter how tough, how painful it was.

No matter how many times he was knocked down, the floor smeared with his blood, he lay there, struggling to get up. The man approached, fixing Abner's dislocated arm back in place.

"You did well, kid. Your dad would've

been proud. That's enough for today. You can head back. We've got tutors lined up for you-your memory's something else, school stuff sticks with you. Next up, you need to learn how to run a family business, a whole new ball game for you."

"If you mess up, we can wipe you off the map anytime."

Abner barely registered the threat, his mind on one thing. "When do I get the money?"

The man raised an eyebrow, probably not expecting such a raw desire for cash. Money brings power, and with power comes everything else. At their level, money was just a number. But if it kept Abner in line, so be it.

He pulled out a check for $50,000,

placing it before Abner. With blood-stained fingers, Abner

hesitated, not wanting to soil then et© 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

paper After wiping his hands clean,

he carefully picked up the check, his voice hoarse. "Thanks."

The man's eyebrow quirked, a chuckle escaping him. "Looks like money's no object for you now. Every effort from here on out is for Shirley's sake."

Noticing a flash of fury in Abner's eyes, he found it amusing. "Slack off, and what we do to Shirley will be beyond your worst nightmares. Believe me, Abner, sometimes it's harder to live than to die."

A sudden rage covered Abner's face, his hands grabbing the man's collar. "Dare touch her and see what happens!"