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

Get the hell out, all

of his lackeys sidled up. “Mr. Chambers, did those

like The Velvet

Velvet Haven is the manager herself. Heard she’s a

sparked in

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

his tie again as

also 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 on cloud

erupted around the

quelling

couldn’t have Evadne, why not play with her lookalike and vent his frustrations?

Elsie, even without a single patron to entertain, was the epitome of allure from her shimmering tresses down to her stiletto heels. Clad in

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

at attention. “Ms. Archer!”

smoothly?” Elsie inquired,

brought his crew

beef between Matthew and Mr. Avery, shouldn’t we?”

we treat him well. Grudges don’t pay the bills,” Elsie retorted with a curl

grinned in understanding.

going to make Matthew pay

survey 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 spot an anomaly

to leave, a figure on one of the screens caught her

a member; how did he get in? What

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

you, Ms. Archer! You’re the

Elvis and began to plot her next move.

high–definition surveillance, Elvis‘ strikingly handsome features on the screen assaulted her trembling pupils. His piercing eyes, cool and sharp, irresistibly pulled her

no time for

was wiped from the surveillance feed.

underestimated Avery’s obsession and seriously overlooked the Velvet Haven’s state–of–the–art security

was just a ruse

in every nook and cranny–behind mirrors, nestled in flower

alone a full–grown man.

so

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

could get in, he was confident he

that son of a gun, had it coming, and Elvis couldn’t wait a

pockets of his black trench coat as he made his

hands clutched his

darkened, muscles tensing

the storage shelves forced their bodies close, almost intimate.

eyes met, he finally saw