His Ex Wife is A Billionaire (Evadne and Thaddeus)

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.”

She was interrupted by a sudden, soft thud Elva had collapsed to her knees!

–

“Mrs. Chambers! What are you doing?” Camille exclaimed, rushing to help her up.

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

Memories of her mother enduring humiliation and abuse at the hands of the man who called himself her father flashed before Camille’s eyes.

“I must get a dress from you 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 my knees right here!”

“Please, don’t do this. Stand up and let’s talk,” Camille said, her 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 would suit you.”

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

With the studio staff and assistants dismissed, it was just the two of them. Camille took Elva’s measurements and selected three gowns that matched her status and poise.

If they’re not to

clutched a forest green gown close, as if fearing Camille might change her mind. “No trouble at all, this one will

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

Elva stepped into

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

from the fitting room

Are you alright? Mrs. Chambers?” Camille called out,

the worst and

she

back marred by

jacket, gently lifting

wake up!”

open, dazed

1/3

09:30

Chapter 675

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

as she turned away, unable to face Camille’s piercing gaze.

Is Matthew hurting you?” Camille’s eyes blazed

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

“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

Elva burst out, her composure shattered. “Right now, I can at least survive. But if I resist,

emotion. “Not fighting back is the real dead–end! Mrs. Chambers, there’s still time

slammed shut before she could finish her sentence.

stood frozen, her expression a mask of anger and indignation. A thought began to

emotions.

arrogantly pulled in, parking right

a total nightmare!” complained a woman stepping out of the car, dressed in a pink

half–sister, Eunice Evert.

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 nail on the

perfectly sculpted eyebrows drew together in dissatisfaction. “But I don’t get it, why didn’t we hire a better designer for my engagement dress? Our

fortune because he knew when to save and when to spend. Having Camille design your dress is not only utilizing her skills, which would otherwise be a waste, but it’s

these schemes in mind, the duo grandly entered