His Ex-Wife Is A Billionaire (Evadne and Thaddeus) novel 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.” 

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. 

“Mrs. Chambers, what do you think of these three? If they’re not to your liking, I can find others,” Camille offered. 

Without much consideration, Elva clutched a forest green gown close, as if fearing Camille might change her mind. “No trouble at all, this one will do. It’s perfect.” 

Camille’s heart 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 and I’ll make the alterations right now?” 

Hesitantly, Elva stepped into the fitting room. 

As Camille waited, the past 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 turmoil. 

A sudden thud from the fitting room jolted her. 

*Mrs. Chambers? Are you alright? Mrs. Chambers?” Camille called out, her voice laced with panic. 

When no answer came, she feared the worst and broke into the room. 

“Mrs. Chambers!” she cried out. 

Elva had fainted, half–dressed, revealing a back marred by old bruises and fresh wounds. 

Within seconds, Camille covered Elva with her own jacket, gently lifting her up, and pinching her head to revive her. 

“Mrs Chambers, wake up!” 

Elva’s eyes fluttered open, dazed and confused 

1/3 

09:30 

Chapter 675 

Camille, her voice filled with urgency and concern, asked, “Mrs. Chambers, what happened to you? What are these marks?” 

Tears streaked down Elva’s face as she turned away, unable to face Camille’s piercing gaze. 

“Are you being abused? Is Matthew hurting you?” Camille’s eyes blazed with barely contained fury. 

“Ms. Camille, that’s my 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 up. Thank you for your trouble.” 

As Elva moved to leave, Camille shouted 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 up dead?” 

“What 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 waiting for me!” 

“Bullshit!” Camille 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…” 

The door slammed shut before she could finish her sentence. 

Camille stood frozen, her expression a mask of anger and indignation. A thought began to form in her mind amidst the tumult of 

emotions. 

Elva’s car had barely rolled out of the 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 clearly marked spaces. 

“Oh my God, 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 of disdain. 

It was Camille’s half–sister, Eunice Evert. 

“It’s 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 about her illegitimate background. To marry her? It would be a stain on the family’s reputation, utterly humiliating.” 

“Hey, mom, you hit the nail on the head!” 

Eunice’s 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 family can certainly afford it. Why settle for this little witch? It’s such bad luck.” 

“Ah, my dear, you don’t see the bigger picture,” Mrs. Evert said, linking arms with her daughter. “Your father has built up quite the 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 also a test of obedience from your father, to remind her of her place in the Evert family. Even though she shares the name, she’ll always be beneath you, destined to play second fiddle.” 

With these schemes in mind, the duo grandly entered the gates. 

“Hold on, do you have an appointment?” the assistant immediately stepped in to block their path. 

“An appointment? Since when do small–time shops like this need appointments?” Eunice scoffed, rolling her eyes in disdain. 

The assistant’s brows knitted together, and her demeanor turned frosty. “Without an appointment, Designer Evert will not meet with you. Mrs. Chambers of the Chambers Group just came by without one, and even she was turned away.”