His Ex Wife Is A Billionaire

Chapter 669

It was the witching hour at the Velvet Haven, and the two bouncers stationed at the entrance were struggling to keep their eyelids from waging war against each other. They were eagerly anticipating the moment they could clock out and head home.

But then came a rustling sound that cut through the stillness of the night.

One bouncer, yawning and stretching, froze. “Hey, you hear that? Sounds like something’s stirring.”

The other, whose mind was already half into his pillow, mumbled, “Stirring? Nah, it’s dead quiet.”

“No, for real, listen, it’s like something’s scraping against the wall!”

The second bouncer’s skin crawled at the thought. “Man, don’t freak me out. This plot used to be an old graveyard. You try to give me nightmares?”

“I’m gonna check it out. You stay put,” the first bouncer said, grabbing a flashlight and rounding the corner to the back of the club:

His light danced across the walls, eventually angling upwards.

And there, just as the harsh beam missed him by an inch, stood Elvis, casually leaning against the window ledge on the fifth floor, hands nonchalantly tucked into his pockets. Below him, the city sprawled out, unaware of his silent judgment.

The bouncer saw nothing amiss and wandered off, scratching his head in confusion.

“Blind as a bat,” Elvis muttered under his breath, his eyes glittering with malice. In a swift motion, a slender glass cutter appeared between his fingers, and within moments, he had carved a neat hole in the window and slipped inside like a shadow.

Meanwhile, inside the club’s most exclusive VIP lounge, where the minimum spend had more zeros than most people saw in a year, Matthew was living it up with his entourage. Women clung to him like bees to honey, but he wasn’t satisfied. He beckoned a bombshell with curves in all the right places to straddle his lap and feed him shots, lip to lip.

“Hey! That’s what I’m talking ‘bout! Mr. Chambers, born with a silver spoon! Just a temporary slump, man, you’re destined for the top!”

“Spot on! And that Avery guy? A mutt who got lucky, thinks he can run with the big dogs now. Mr. Chambers, you gotta make him regret crossing you. Make him spit out whatever he took from you!”

sent a surge of rage through Matthew, and he abruptly sent

Get the hell out, all of ya!” he bellowed.

his lackeys sidled up. “Mr. Chambers, did those dames not satisfy your taste?” –

More like The Velvet Hell,” Matthew grumbled, loosening his tie irritably.

the manager herself. Heard she’s a sight that would make your heart race,”

in Matthew’s eyes.

a glimpse. Damn, she’s a

bobbed, his hand strayed to his tie again as another part of

you, it’d be like having Evadne herself. You’d feel like Thaddeus

erupted around the table.

joke turned Matthew’s face sour, even quelling his lust.

he couldn’t have Evadne,

allure from her shimmering tresses down to her stiletto heels. Clad in a figure–hugging, lilac silk gown that bared her

glass of red wine, Elsie entered the room filled with surveillance monitors, her heels clicking rhythmically against the floor.

employees stood at attention.

Elsie inquired,

good. Mr. Avery brought his crew

considering the beef between Matthew and Mr. Avery,

big in our priciest room, we treat him well. Grudges don’t pay the bills,” Elsie retorted with a curl of her lip. “Double

grinned in understanding.

pay a large sum of money tonight.

the monitors, her eyes sharp and discerning. Avery had trained her well since her youth, and surveillance was just one of her many skills. Where others saw a dizzying array of screens, she could

figure on one of the screens caught her eye. Elvis. His presence was like a

a member; how did he get in? What was he up to?

all night. Take a break, I’ve prepared some food in the lounge. I’ll keep an eye on

you, Ms. Archer! You’re

alone, Elsie pulled up the footage of Elvis and began to plot

features on the screen assaulted her trembling pupils. His piercing eyes, cool and sharp, irresistibly pulled her in, sinking her deep.

there was no time for admiration; she hit

wiped from the surveillance feed.

counter–surveillance skills, had underestimated Avery’s obsession and seriously

privacy was just a ruse to pacify the

flower pots. Even a fly, no matter how fast it

a full–grown

so

determined stride, unfazed

get in, he was confident

and get even. Matthew, that son of a gun, had it coming,

black trench coat as he made

hands clutched his arm, pulling him into the shadows!

eyes darkened, muscles tensing for a

the cramped space between the storage shelves forced their bodies close,

their eyes met, he finally saw her face.