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!”

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

out, all of ya!” he bellowed.

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

Velvet Hell,” Matthew grumbled, loosening

real gem of 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. “Oh?”

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

his hand strayed to his tie again as another part

Imagine having her serve you, it’d be like having

erupted around the table.

Matthew’s face sour, even quelling his

root. If he couldn’t have Evadne, why not play

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 embodiment of

filled with surveillance monitors, her

employees stood at attention. “Ms.

running smoothly?” Elsie inquired,

Avery brought his crew to VIP Room

the beef between Matthew and Mr.

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

subordinates grinned in understanding.

to make Matthew pay a large sum of money tonight.

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 in

turned to leave, a figure on one of the screens caught her eye. Elvis. His presence was

he get in? What was he up

smiled and told her men, “You’ve been watching all night. Take

Ms. Archer! You’re the

Elsie pulled up the footage of Elvis and began

her trembling pupils. His

there was no time for admiration; she hit

wiped

top–tier counter–surveillance skills, had underestimated Avery’s obsession and seriously overlooked the Velvet Haven’s state–of–the–art security

so–called privacy was just a ruse to pacify the

cameras hidden in every nook and cranny–behind mirrors, nestled in flower pots. Even a

a full–grown

one so distractingly

a cool, determined stride, unfazed

he could get in, he was confident he could get

get even. Matthew, that son of a gun, had it coming, and Elvis couldn’t wait a moment longer to

trench

his arm, pulling him into

tensing

space between the storage shelves forced

their eyes met, he finally