His Ex Wife Is A Billionaire

Chapter 675

Chapter 675

Camille arrived at her design studio only to find Elva sitting rigidly, as if awaiting a verdict.

“Are you the wife of Mr. Chambers?” she inquired with a touch of surprise.

Elva, flustered, rose to her feet. “Ms. Camille,” she corrected, her voice a soft tremor.

Camille’s gaze swept over the woman before her. She had expected the grand dame of the Chambers family to be an epitome of sophistication and brashness. But the reality was quite different.

Elva was clad in a simple white power suit with her hair pulled back into a neat chignon. Despite the impeccable makeup, it couldn’t mask her pallor and the weariness in her eyes.

“Mrs. Chambers, please take a seat,” Camille offered, her voice even.

She had come with a grudge against the Chambers Group but seeing Elva, the anger just wouldn’t surface. Instead, she decided to wait and see what card Elva would play.

“Ms. Camille, I know it’s quite presumptuous of me to come unannounced, but I really need your help to design an evening gown,” Elva pleaded urgently. “Money is no object. Whatever others can offer, I can double, triple it. I just need you to make a dress for me. Please,”

“Mrs. Chambers, I’m just a designer, Camille chided gently, noting how Elva’s hands trembled around her teacup, her eyes glazed over. “But you should know, ever since my studio opened, we’ve operated strictly by appointment. No one can bypass this rule.”

by a sudden, soft thud

are you doing?” Camille exclaimed, rushing to help her up.

Camille’s eyes caught sight of bruised and bloodied skin beneath the sleeve that had ridden up – a sight that struck her to

humiliation and abuse at the hands of the man who called himself her father flashed before Camille’s

because only a creation by you can truly stand out. No one else’s work is even worth considering,” Elva said, her body trembling, her voice choked with unshed tears. “If you refuse me, I’ll stay on

hoarse as she tried to maintain composure. “I’ll help you, let’s take your measurements. Perhaps I have something ready–to–wear that would suit

reddened eyes as she clung to Camille’s hand. “Thank you, truly, thank you so much.”

Camille took Elva’s measurements and selected three gowns that matched

do you think of these three? If they’re not to

Camille might change her mind. “No trouble at all, this one will do. It’s perfect.”

clenched at the sight of Elva’s strained demeanor. “Ready–to–wear isn’t as perfect as bespoke. They might need adjustments. Why don’t you try it on

Elva stepped into the fitting room.

swirled in her mind, unsettling her. She grabbed a bottle of ice–cold water

from the fitting

Mrs. Chambers?” Camille called

no answer came, she feared the worst and broke

Chambers!” she cried

fainted, half–dressed, revealing a back marred by

with her own jacket, gently lifting her up, and pinching her head to revive

Chambers, wake up!”

open, dazed

her voice filled with urgency and concern, asked, “Mrs. Chambers, what happened to you?

Elva’s face as she turned away, unable

hurting you?”

she prepared to flee. “I’ll transfer the money

after her, “Mrs. Chambers! Domestic abuse will never stop once it begins! You know better than anyone the humiliation and pain you’ve been enduring all these years! Do you really want to spend the rest of your life with a man worse than a beast? How much longer can you endure? Do you want to end

can at least survive.

spat, her voice hoarse with emotion. “Not fighting back is the real dead–end! Mrs. Chambers, there’s still time to turn things around, if only you would…”

door slammed shut before she

anger and indignation. A thought began to form in her mind amidst the tumult of

of the studio’s front yard when another luxury sedan arrogantly pulled in, parking right in front of the villa, flouting all semblance

mom, what kind of dump has this little witch picked out? It’s so out of the way, the drive here was a total nightmare!” complained a woman stepping out of the car, dressed in a pink lace dress that screamed suburban chic. Her eyes were full

half–sister,

face and eyes that seemed perpetually arched in disapproval. It was Eunice’s mother, Mrs. Evert. “This so–called ‘renowned designer‘ is just a title she’s given herself, laying the groundwork to snag a wealthy husband. As if anyone reputable would want her once they know about her illegitimate background. To marry her? It would be a stain

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