His Ex Wife Is A Billionaire

Chapter 487

In the wee hours of the morning, a sleek red sports car pulled off a stunning fishtail maneuver before coming to a halt in front of a nightclub.

Elsie gracefully unfolded her toned legs from the low car, stepping out into the night. She was dressed to kill in a form–fitting black mermaid gown that hugged her curves in all the right places. Her crystal–studded stilettos sparkled under the moonlight, their sharp heels like daggers poised above the hearts of men.

“Ms. Archer. He’s still inside. I’ve had my eyes glued,” one of her subordinates stepped out of the shadows.

With a gaze as cold as the moon, Elsie lifted her delicate left hand to skillfully twist her raven hair into an elegant updo, securing it casually with a silver hairpin adorned with a crimson ruby.

Her movements were fluid poetry, leaving her subordinate utterly entranced.

“Stay on the lookout and be ready for cleanup duty.”

Inside the nightclub, shadows and light danced together, creating an atmosphere of mysterious allure.

Elsie clenched her jaw, weaving through the crowd lost in revelry, her eyes fixed on her target seated at the edge of the bar – Elvis. With each step closer, her heartbeat intensified, the surrounding noise fading into oblivion as if she were stepping into a dream.

Elsie readjusted her sultry hair, preparing for the night’s climax. Undoubtedly, she would use her favorite hairpin to strike decisively. Moments later, Elsie was behind Elvis, her soft hand nearly on his shoulder when suddenly, her wrist throbbed with pain, and the world spun!

“Ah!”

The next second, Elsie’s back slammed against a table, the pain so intense she gasped for air.

His reflexes were not of this world – they belonged to a devil! Elvis’s rough right hand imprisoned her delicate wrist, his left brutally squeezing her neck, his grip tightening relentlessly.

Over these years, as a top–tire secret agent, while executing the mission overseas, he occasionally would undergo assassination organized by his enemy Years of having been in dire straits had honed his senses to the extreme; even the slightest rustle could not escape his vigilance!

Now, with Elsie pinned beneath him, the suffocating pressure turned her face crimson, tears welling in the corners of her eyes.

“Is it you?”

Elvis loosened his grip, startled by the recognition.

Elsie gasped for breath, tears streaming down her face uncontrollably. Onlookers whispered among themselves, mistaking the scene for a domestic dispute, too wary to intervene.

“Dude looks sharp, but man, is he trashy, domestic violence in public?!”

“Better mind our own business; they seem like they’re into it. Let’s just bail.”

Elvis’s face darkened at the murmurs.

“You hurt me,” Elsie struggled to rise, her back pain rendering her unable to straighten up.

“My apologies, occupational hazard,” Elvis’s long arm hooked around her waist and hoisted her up in one swift motion.

Elvis simply glared coldly, “Ms. Archer, aside from my sister, there’s no other woman who gets to hold me like that. You’re quite bold, aren’t

on her exquisite face, his heart quivering. The resemblance to his sister was uncanny. If she dressed in the same clothes, styled

light flashed in Elvis’s eyes, his lips curving into a smirk as he tilted her chin upward, “In

his smile, Her voice trembling, “But there’s always a hierarchy, levels of

he replied, “Of course, my

his sister? But

deep eyes, “You

voice nonchalant, “Mister, you must believe that our previous encounters were

eyebrow, “Oh, how lucky

me last time.” Elsie’s hand wound around his black tie, her body pressing against his, her eyes shimmering with longing, “I’ve been hoping to see you

eyes making her heart race, yet

were like X–rays, lie detectors. But in that moment, he

repay me, huh?” Elvis let

with shy excitement, “Whatever you desire, I’m yours for

shifted

never expecting that Elvis’s idea of

dare to play?” Elvis rested his chin on his hand, carefully placing the last block on top. Meanwhile, the bartender had delivered three bottles of the

gaped at the man, the sudden game

a lady to drink spirits, so let’s say one shot for you, three for me,” Elvis’s eyes glinted like

breath, steeling her nerves, “A promise made

The game began.

the most knowledgeable about entertainment among all the Ashbourne children, and Jenga was a favorite from his childhood,

in a corner, playing with these childhood toys to soothe

few rounds, Elsie lost miserably, downing four shots of burning liquor that set her stomach ablaze. Sweat beaded on Elsie’s forehead, the fiery alcohol

sacrificed everything for Avery’s grand ambitions, leaving her with nothing but a life she deemed worthless. She had immersed herself in a world of revelry and indulgence, pandering to others and trading her

body, though seemingly radiant, was riddled with scars

3

shaking his empty glass with a devil–may–care

filled her glass to the brim. As she was about to lift her glass, Elvis leaned in, his large hand covering the rim, “If

A bet’s a bet, and I’m not

the glass from him and with a flushed face, downed the drink in one swift

the corners of his mouth turned up in a subtle smirk. This woman, stubborn

his foul mood, but Elvis, the one

won! I

joy of a young girl. Elvis watched her without

a moment, he thought he saw his younger sister, Evadne, who would run around in glee after finally beating him

wonderful it would be if you never grew up, remaining forever in the carefree, thoughtless days, always protected by us.

it’s your turn.”

skipped a beat. She saw a tear glisten in the sorrowful depths of Elvis’s eyes, fleeting

That’s nice.”

his eyes, touching his glass to hers,

drained his glass, the liquid trailing down

had never heard such words before. Always, others demanded, controlled, commanded her. No one had ever said to her, ‘I hope you can win.