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!”

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

out, all

up. “Mr. Chambers, did those

Haven? More like The Velvet Hell,” Matthew

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

glint sparked in Matthew’s eyes.

only gracing the V–level clients with her presence. But a buddy of mine caught a glimpse. Damn,

apple bobbed, his hand strayed to his tie again as another part of him stirred.

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

erupted around

sour, even quelling his lust. Look like

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

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

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

stood at attention. “Ms. Archer!”

Elsie inquired, sipping her wine

his

“Ms. Archer, considering the beef between Matthew and

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

subordinates grinned in

going to make Matthew pay a large sum of

and discerning. Avery had trained her well since her youth, and surveillance was just one

her eye. Elvis. His presence was like a gust of

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

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

you, Ms. Archer! You’re the

alone, Elsie pulled up the footage of Elvis and began

assaulted her trembling pupils. His

no time for admiration; she

that, Elvis was wiped from the

top–tier counter–surveillance skills, had underestimated Avery’s obsession and seriously overlooked the

privacy was just a ruse

nook and cranny–behind mirrors, nestled in flower pots. Even a fly, no matter how fast it

a full–grown man.

one so

cool, determined stride, unfazed by the possibility of being watched.

could get in, he was confident he could get

even. Matthew, that son of a gun, had it coming, and Elvis couldn’t

black trench coat as he made

delicate hands clutched his arm, pulling him

muscles tensing

the storage shelves forced their

their eyes met, he finally