His Ex Wife is A Billionaire (Evadne and Thaddeus)

Chapter 487

In the wee hours of the morning, a sleek red sports car pulled off a stunning fishtail maneuver before coming to a halt in front of a nightclub.

Elsie gracefully unfolded her toned legs from the low car, stepping out into the night. She was dressed to kill in a form–fitting black mermaid gown that hugged her curves in all the right places. Her crystal–studded stilettos sparkled under the moonlight, their sharp heels like daggers poised above the hearts of men.

“Ms. Archer. He’s still inside. I’ve had my eyes glued,” one of her subordinates stepped out of the shadows.

With a gaze as cold as the moon, Elsie lifted her delicate left hand to skillfully twist her raven hair into an elegant updo, securing it casually with a silver hairpin adorned with a crimson ruby.

Her movements were fluid poetry, leaving her subordinate utterly entranced.

“Stay on the lookout and be ready for cleanup duty.”

Inside the nightclub, shadows and light danced together, creating an atmosphere of mysterious allure.

Elsie clenched her jaw, weaving through the crowd lost in revelry, her eyes fixed on her target seated at the edge of the bar – Elvis. With each step closer, her heartbeat intensified, the surrounding noise fading into oblivion as if she were stepping into a dream.

Elsie readjusted her sultry hair, preparing for the night’s climax. Undoubtedly, she would use her favorite hairpin to strike decisively. Moments later, Elsie was behind Elvis, her soft hand nearly on his shoulder when suddenly, her wrist throbbed with pain, and the world spun!

“Ah!”

The next second, Elsie’s back slammed against a table, the pain so intense she gasped for air.

His reflexes were not of this world – they belonged to a devil! Elvis’s rough right hand imprisoned her delicate wrist, his left brutally squeezing her neck, his grip tightening relentlessly.

Over these years, as a top–tire secret agent, while executing the mission overseas, he occasionally would undergo assassination organized by his enemy Years of having been in dire straits had honed his senses to the extreme; even the slightest rustle could not escape his vigilance!

Now, with Elsie pinned beneath him, the suffocating pressure turned her face crimson, tears welling in the corners of her eyes.

“Is it you?”

Elvis loosened his grip, startled by the recognition.

Elsie gasped for breath, tears streaming down her face uncontrollably. Onlookers whispered among themselves, mistaking the scene for a domestic dispute, too wary to intervene.

“Dude looks sharp, but man, is he trashy, domestic violence in public?!”

“Better mind our own business; they seem like they’re into it. Let’s just bail.”

Elvis’s face darkened at the murmurs.

“You hurt me,” Elsie struggled to rise, her back pain rendering her unable to straighten up.

“My apologies, occupational hazard,” Elvis’s long arm hooked around her waist and hoisted her up in one swift motion.

Elsie instinctively wrapped her arms around his strong waist, her breath warm and enticing. However, Elvis simply glared coldly, “Ms. Archer, aside from my sister, there’s no other woman who gets to hold me like that. You’re quite bold, aren’t you?” “You’re very protective of your sister. How envious to have such a handsome brother.” Elsie’s lips curved into a practiced, mesmerizing smile, “She must be very beautiful, right?”

His eyes lingered on her exquisite face, his heart quivering. The resemblance to his sister was uncanny. If she dressed in the same clothes, styled her hair the same way, even he might mistake her for his sibling, let alone Thaddeus!

eyes, his lips curving into a smirk as he tilted her chin

voice trembling, “But there’s always a hierarchy, levels of beauty.”

replied, “Of course, my sister is more

overly fond of his sister? But his straightforwardness somehow

deep eyes, “You are not looking for me, aren’t you?”

fingers played along his firm chest, her voice nonchalant, “Mister, you must believe that

an eyebrow, “Oh, how lucky I am.”

against his, her eyes shimmering with longing, “I’ve been hoping to see you again, to

his penetrating eyes making her heart race,

moment, he felt a hint of truth in her

to repay me, huh?” Elvis let out a mischievous grin,

her cheeks flushing with shy excitement, “Whatever

scene shifted

stared in disbelief, never expecting that Elvis’s

piece each, loser drinks three shots. Ms. Archer, do you dare to play?” Elvis rested his chin on his hand, carefully placing the last block on top.

at the man, the sudden game disrupting

let’s say one shot for you, three for me,” Elvis’s eyes glinted like amber sunken deep into

in,” Elsie took a deep breath, steeling her nerves, “A promise

The game began.

always been quick–witted, the most knowledgeable about entertainment among all the Ashbourne children, and Jenga was a favorite from his childhood, often played with his little

headquarters, he would sit in a corner, playing with these childhood toys to soothe his

few rounds, Elsie lost miserably, downing four shots of burning liquor that set her stomach ablaze. Sweat beaded on Elsie’s forehead, the fiery

but a life she deemed worthless. She had immersed herself in a world of revelry and indulgence, pandering to others and trading her

seemingly radiant, was riddled with scars beneath the surface.

3

Elvis teased her, shaking his empty glass with a devil–may–care

leaned in, his large hand covering the rim, “If

need. A bet’s a bet, and I’m not one to back

with a flushed face,

in a subtle

next three rounds, Elvis intentionally lost to her. Perhaps it was his foul mood, but Elvis, the one who

I won again!”

with the innocent joy of a young girl. Elvis watched her without blinking, feeling as if the world

who would run around in

never grew up, remaining forever in the carefree, thoughtless days, always protected by us. Unlike now, having experienced the cruelties of human nature and the bitterness of

your

heart skipped a beat. She saw a tear glisten in the sorrowful depths of Elvis’s eyes, fleeting like

won. That’s nice.”

his glass to hers, “I wish you could always win.”

his glass, the

Always, others demanded, controlled, commanded her. No one had ever

blank, and her hands instinctively reached for Elvis’s

hitched, his long lashes drooping. His hand cradled the back of