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!”

his CEO position sent a surge of rage through Matthew, and he abruptly sent

all

women fled, and one of his lackeys sidled up. “Mr. Chambers, did those dames not satisfy your taste?” –

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

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

glint sparked in Matthew’s eyes. “Oh?”

a buddy of mine caught a glimpse. Damn, she’s a siren! Just one look and you’re standing

his hand strayed to his tie again as

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

erupted around the

even quelling his lust. Look like Evadne? Bad

a wicked idea took root. If he couldn’t have Evadne, why not play

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

wine, Elsie entered the room filled with surveillance

employees stood at attention. “Ms.

Elsie inquired, sipping her wine

Avery brought his crew to VIP Room

considering the beef between Matthew and

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

grinned in

was going to make Matthew pay a large sum of money

trained her well since her youth, and surveillance was just one of

of the screens caught her eye. Elvis. His presence was like a gust of wind, brief but unmistakable.

he get in? What

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

Ms. Archer! You’re

alone, Elsie pulled up the footage of Elvis and began to plot her next move.

handsome features on the screen assaulted her trembling pupils. His

was no time for admiration;

like that, Elvis was wiped from

underestimated Avery’s obsession and seriously

was just a ruse to

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

a full–grown

so distractingly good–looking.

Elvis walked with a cool, determined stride, unfazed by the possibility

in, he was confident he

a gun, had it coming, and Elvis couldn’t wait a moment longer to

pockets of his black trench coat as he made his

of delicate hands clutched his arm, pulling him into the shadows!

eyes darkened, muscles tensing for

space between the storage shelves forced

he finally saw her face.