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 the gaggle of party girls scattering.

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

fled, and one of his lackeys sidled up. “Mr. Chambers,

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

Heard she’s a sight that would make your

sparked in

a ghost, only gracing the V–level clients with her presence. But a buddy of mine caught a glimpse. Damn, she’s a siren!

strayed to his tie again as another part

serve you, it’d be like having

around the table.

Matthew’s face sour, even quelling his lust. Look like Evadne? Bad

have Evadne, why not play with her lookalike and vent his

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

a glass of red wine, Elsie entered the room filled with surveillance monitors, her heels clicking

at attention. “Ms.

smoothly?” Elsie inquired, sipping

his crew to VIP Room 001.”

Archer, considering the beef

spending big in our priciest room, we treat him well. Grudges don’t pay the bills,” Elsie retorted with

grinned in understanding.

to make Matthew pay a large sum

trained her well since her youth, and surveillance was just one of her many skills. Where

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

wasn’t a member; how did he get

racing heart, Elsie smiled and told her men, “You’ve been watching all night. Take a break, I’ve prepared some food in the lounge. I’ll keep an eye

Archer! You’re the best!”

pulled up the footage of Elvis and began to plot

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

there was no time for admiration;

like that, Elvis was wiped from

former secret agent with top–tier counter–surveillance skills, had underestimated Avery’s obsession and seriously overlooked the Velvet

so–called privacy was just a ruse to pacify the

flower pots. Even a fly, no matter how fast it buzzed around, would be caught on

a full–grown

so distractingly good–looking.

cool, determined stride,

in, he was confident he could get out.

gun, had it coming, and Elvis couldn’t wait

remained casually in the pockets of his black trench coat as

hands clutched his arm, pulling

eyes darkened, muscles tensing for a fight.

shelves forced their bodies close,

eyes met, he finally saw her