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!”

stealing his CEO position sent a surge of rage through Matthew, and he abruptly sent the gaggle of party girls

out, all of ya!”

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

More like The Velvet Hell,” Matthew

the manager herself. Heard she’s a sight that would

lascivious glint sparked in

presence. But a buddy of mine caught a glimpse. Damn, she’s a siren! Just one look and you’re standing at attention, if you get my

Adam’s apple bobbed, his hand strayed to his tie again

like the Skyrim heiress, Evadne! Imagine having her serve you, it’d be like having Evadne herself.

erupted around

quelling his lust. Look

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

gaze. “Bring the Velvet Hayen’s manager 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

entered the room filled with surveillance monitors, her heels clicking rhythmically against the floor.

stood at

Elsie inquired, sipping her

his crew

considering the beef between

priciest room, we treat him well. Grudges don’t pay the bills,”

grinned in

to make Matthew pay a large sum of

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

figure on one of the screens caught her eye. Elvis. His presence was like a gust of

get in? What

watching all night. Take a break, I’ve prepared some food in the lounge. I’ll keep an eye on

Ms. Archer! You’re the

of Elvis and began to plot her next move.

on the screen assaulted her trembling

time for

Elvis was wiped from the

secret agent with top–tier counter–surveillance skills, had underestimated Avery’s obsession

was just a ruse to pacify the patrons.

mirrors, nestled in flower pots. Even a fly, no matter how fast it buzzed

a full–grown man.

so distractingly good–looking.

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

he could get in, he was confident he

coming, and Elvis couldn’t wait a moment longer to exact

of his black trench coat as he made his way to Matthew’s private booth.

his arm,

eyes darkened, muscles tensing for

shelves forced their bodies

eyes met, he finally