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.”

sudden, soft thud Elva had collapsed to her knees!

you doing?” Camille exclaimed, rushing to help

pulled Elva to her feet, Camille’s eyes caught sight of bruised and bloodied skin beneath the sleeve that had ridden up –

of the man who called himself

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 my

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

eyes as she clung to Camille’s hand. “Thank you, truly,

was just the two of them. Camille took Elva’s measurements and selected three gowns that matched her status

of these three? If they’re

forest green gown close, as if fearing Camille might change her mind.

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 and

into the fitting

waited, the past horrors swirled in her mind, unsettling her. She grabbed a bottle of ice–cold water from the fridge, gulping it down

from the

Camille called

answer came, she feared the worst and broke into

Chambers!” she

fainted, half–dressed, revealing a back marred by

own jacket, gently lifting her up, and pinching her head

Chambers, wake up!”

open, dazed and confused

urgency and concern, asked, “Mrs. Chambers, what happened

as she turned away, unable to face Camille’s

abused? Is Matthew hurting you?” Camille’s eyes blazed

personal business, please, don’t ask,” Elva said, struggling to dress herself as she prepared to flee. “I’ll transfer the money for the dress, and my assistant will pick it

you’ve been enduring all these years! Do you really want to spend the rest of your life with

choice do I have?” Elva burst out, her composure shattered. “Right now, I can at least survive. But if I resist, there’s only death

spat, her voice hoarse with emotion. “Not fighting back is the real dead–end! Mrs. Chambers, there’s still time to

door slammed shut before she could finish

A thought began

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

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

half–sister, Eunice Evert.

because the real estate’s dirt cheap around here. That penny–pinching brat is probably saving up for her own wedding gift or something,” followed a plump, middle–aged woman with a pinched 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

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