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!”

CEO position sent a surge of rage through Matthew,

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

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

the Velvet Haven? More like The Velvet Hell,” Matthew grumbled, loosening

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

lascivious glint sparked in Matthew’s

a glimpse.

his hand strayed to his tie again as another part of him

she looks like the Skyrim heiress, Evadne! Imagine having her serve you, it’d be like having Evadne herself. You’d

erupted around

even quelling his lust. Look like Evadne? Bad omen!

Evadne, why

summoned his secretary with a lecherous gaze. “Bring the Velvet Hayen’s manager here, tell her to join me for a drink.” Tonight, Elsie, even without a single patron to entertain, was the epitome of allure from her shimmering tresses down to her stiletto heels. Clad in a figure–hugging, lilac silk gown that bared her sculpted back, she was the

room filled with surveillance monitors, her

at attention. “Ms.

everything running smoothly?” Elsie inquired, sipping her

brought his crew

the beef between

in our priciest room, we treat him well. Grudges don’t pay

subordinates grinned in

Matthew pay a large

eyes sharp and discerning. Avery had trained her well since her youth, and surveillance was just one of her many skills. Where others

leave, a figure on one of the screens caught her eye. Elvis. His

he get in? What was he

her men, “You’ve been watching all night. Take a break, I’ve prepared some food

Ms. Archer! You’re

the footage of Elvis

her trembling pupils. His piercing eyes, cool and sharp, irresistibly pulled her in, sinking

was no time for admiration; she hit

that, Elvis was wiped from the surveillance

underestimated Avery’s obsession and seriously overlooked the Velvet Haven’s

privacy was just a ruse to pacify

was rigged with sophisticated cameras hidden in every nook and cranny–behind mirrors, nestled in flower pots. Even a fly, no matter

a full–grown

one so distractingly

stride, unfazed by

could get in, he was confident

had it coming, and Elvis couldn’t wait a moment longer to exact his brother’s

pockets of his black trench

clutched his arm, pulling him into

eyes darkened, muscles tensing for a fight.

shelves forced their bodies close,

eyes met, he finally