His Ex-Wife Is A Billionaire (Evadne and Thaddeus) novel Chapter 572

Chapter 572 

In the dimly–lit bathroom, Arnold cleared his throat so aggressively that the whiskey he had been nursing threatened to make a violent comeback. Amongst his siblings, he was notoriously the lightest drinker and whiskey, in particular, was his nemesis. 

Despite his efforts to expel the fiery liquid, his head spun with dizziness, and his throat scorched as though scraped by a blade. 

“Arnold, look at yourself, making a scene for nothing. She doesn’t even notice you, and here you are, agonizing over nothing.” 

He splashed his face with cold water, running his fingers through his damp hair, slicking back the wet strands that hung over his forehead. Even in his disheveled state, his handsome features, now pale from the ordeal, shone under the soft lighting, alluring even at his most vulnerable. 

“Jesus, I’m such an idiot.” he murmured, massaging his temples. The frustration inside him was a stubborn knot, refusing to unravel. 

As he pushed open the door to leave, he stumbled into a warm and fragrant presence just outside. 

“Ah!” Camille exclaimed, almost losing her balance in her towering stilettos. 

Although slightly buzzed, Arnold’s reflexes didn’t fail him. His arm sn*ked around her slender waist, pulling her close to prevent 

her fall. 

Their eyes met, breaths mingling, the heat from their bodies building a silent storm of sighs and unspoken words. 

Arnold’s mind flashed back to their first k*ss, born out of a desperate attempt to save a life, an encounter that had left him restless and longing. 

Now, as he looked into her eyes, the same intense feelings surged through him, and he found himself unwilling to let go. 

“Can you let go of me now?” Camille’s voice trembled, her palm instinctively pressing against his chest. 

“Why are you ignoring me?” Arnold’s directness, perhaps fueled by the alcohol, cut through the air. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me, Ms. Camille? Or is your memory failing you?” 

“How could I forget?” Camille’s fingers curled slightly against his chest, trying to ground herself. “You are Mr. Arnold Ashbourne, Evadne’s brother.” 

“Then why ignore me?” he persisted. 

“I was preoccupied.” Camille’s eyes darted away. 

Arnold’s brows knitted together, anger flaring. “Preoccupied? You know me as well as you know Evadne. How could you possibly be too preoccupied for me?” 

“Prosecutor Arnold, it’s not like you have to greet everyone you know, right? It’s not a crime to ignore you.” 

Camille struggled within his embrace. “Let go. I need to get back.” 

His gaze darkened, his hold tightening. “Acquaintances? Do acquaintances k*ss each other as we did? Ms. Camille, I think you might be misunderstanding the term.” 

“Kiss? When did we…” 

Before Camille could process her shock, Arnold’s lips descended on hers, deepening the k*ss with a desperation that bordered on 

devouring. 

“Mmm.” A soft moan escaped her, and her resistance melted away. 

Her hands flailed weakly against his chest before sliding down in defeat. In a flash of clarity, the full memory of their past encounter came rushing back to her. 

As Arnold slowly pulled away, his eyes opened to meet hers. 

“Looks like you remember now,” he said with a teasing curve to his breathless voice. “Last time, you clung to me. Now, it’s my turn. We’re even.” 

Even? Had he the audacity to suggest that after forcing a k*ss upon her? 

Camille’s cheeks flushed with indignation, and she didn’t care that he was her mentor’s brother. She wanted to slap him, regardless of the consequences, but her hand merely fluttered weakly, easily caught by Arnold. 

He pressed her hand to his cheek, his eyes half–closed. “Don’t be angry, think of your health.” 

A drop of water trailed down his temple, adding a sensual wetness to his striking features, his eyes shimmering, “If you still crave my life–saving breaths, then by all means, continue.” 

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Chapter 572 

“You!” Camille’s face burned with a mix of anger and embarrassment. Arnold was undeniably handsome, and even though he bore a resemblance to President Ashbourne, he was a world apart from his brooding brother. 

Gathering her wits, Camille turned the tables, her hands climbing his broad shoulders as she asked with a teasing lilt, “Prosecutor Arnold, you’re so concerned about me, could it be that you like me?” 

Like? 

The word shone a light into Arnold’s hazy eyes. “Are you asking seriously?”