Ex-Husband Wants My Baby After Putting Me to Jail

Christian River strongly demanded a conversation with Violet Don, and she had no choice but to agree. He took her to a restaurant, and as they entered, a man sitting there laughed, "Fuck, it was one woman when you walked away, now you come back with another, Christian River, aren't you afraid of dying from kidney failure?"

"If your eyesight is that bad, I'll get you an appointment with an ophthalmologist."

Christian River rolled his eyes in disdain, "Do you recognize who this is?"

The man called Old Frye squinted at Violet Don, drawing out his tone, "She does seem a bit familiar..."

Christian River pulled Violet Don to a seat on the side and then bluntly stated, "Old Noah's ex-wife."

"Fuck."

Graham Frye almost spat out his coffee, managing to swallow it down after a struggle. He glanced at Violet Don, "Miss Don?"

"It's me."

Violet Don responded neither haughtily nor humbly, her voice indifferent yet not lacking in presence.

"Are you... okay?"

They, his group of good friends, hadn't foreseen the sudden change five years ago when Violet Don was sent to prison by Noah Bates as a murderer, not even leaving a glimmer of chance for turnaround.

But now, looking at the Violet Don sitting before him, Graham Frye slightly narrowed his eyes.

He always felt that Violet Don had changed, yet not. What hadn't changed was her chilly and dignified demeanor; even after five years in prison, she remained the Don Family's stunning Miss Don. But what had changed were her eyes.

Like an old, withered person, devoid of vitality, utterly desolate. As if she had given up all hope in the world...

Graham Frye could understand after some thought, how could someone so deeply hurt still love this world?

He remained silent for a while before finding an opening line, "So... Christian, you brought her here to do... what?"

Christian River glanced at Violet Don, cautiously saying, "I... went and investigated you, that. Dawn is your alias, Violet Don?"

"Dawn?!"

Graham Frye exclaimed, raising his tone, "That absurd designer Emma...? Violet Don, is that you?"

Violet Don looked at them warily, her brows slightly furrowed, "Sorry, it's not."

"I..." Christian River widened his eyes in disbelief, "How could it...? I was certain it was you..."

"It must be a mistake in the investigation," Violet Don lowered her head, revealing a stretch of soft, fair skin, "I'm not Dawn, do you need to find her?"

Graham Frye pursed his lips, silent, before slowly saying, "We have a project at our company and we'd like to hire her as a designer..."

Violet Don spoke lightly, "Then I can give you her contact information."

"Really?" Christian River still found it hard to believe, but since Violet Don had said she could provide the contact info, it meant she indeed was not Dawn. Could the information have been incorrect?

Graham Frye could only continue, "Then I'd appreciate it if you would, and if there's anything you can call the number on my business card."

After saying this, he took out a business card and handed it to Violet Don, who received it graciously, then stood up, "Is there nothing else, then?"

"That's all, do you need me to take you home?"

"No need."

Violet Don lowered her eyelids and slipped her hands into the pockets of her trench coat, walking away with long strides towards the restaurant exit.

"Fuck..." Christian River muttered, watching her retreating figure, "So cold, still so full of herself after doing time."

Graham Frye slightly squinted his eyes, sipping the coffee in his hand, and he made a profound comment, "Amy Andrews doesn't compare to her."