His Ex-Wife Is A Billionaire (Evadne and Thaddeus) novel Chapter 837

Although Elsie shooed Elvis away in a hurry, Elvis was the type to stick closer than a shadow, with a skin thicker than the earth itself.

Yet, he didn't bother her, merely standing at a distance, silently observing.

He watched Elsie working alongside the cafeteria ladies, preparing a massive pot of stew. Despite her slender and delicate frame, she stirred the giant black cauldron with ease, seemingly without breaking a sweat.

She picked vegetables, washed them, chopped them - all with a skilled and efficient grace, without a hint of pretension or shyness, as if it was something she had been doing her whole life.

Elvis, with his arms crossed, found himself increasingly captivated.

Elsie was busy to the point of perspiration, a few strands of hair sticking to her cheeks, presenting a somewhat disheveled appearance.

Yet, to him, she was breathtakingly beautiful at that moment.

Although every time they met, she was like a delicate, flawless piece of art, capturing the gaze of men and stealing hearts,

This time, she was even more beautiful than ever, for she was brimming with life and authenticity.

When it was time for dinner at the orphanage, Elvis, as a "friend" of Elsie, had the privilege of staying and sharing the meal with the children.

Elsie and the other two teachers lined up, serving the kids their meals.

"Thank you, Ms. Archer."

The children's voices were crisp and filled with laughter.

Elsie responded warmly, her hands never stopping.

After a while, her long eyelashes fluttered, and she paused, spoon in mid-air, as she looked up in surprise—

Elvis was standing there properly, holding his plate with eager eyes that met her shocked gaze. He smiled broadly,

"Ms. Archer, I'd love some, heap it high, please."

Elsie's heart fluttered, and she bit her lower lip shyly, unsure of what to do next.

Meanwhile, the teachers nearby glimpsed her blushing face and shared knowing smiles.

"Let's hurry and leave after dinner," Elsie whispered, her voice so low that only they could hear.

But her spoon didn't hesitate to fill his plate to the brim.

"I might take a little longer to eat all this. Besides,"

Elvis leaned slightly forward, his gaze sparkling, "It's not easy to see you. How could I leave without taking my time to admire you?"

It was another one of his charming, flirtatious lines.

Each time, Elsie's heart raced, but she immediately forced herself to stay lucid, not to hope, and not to fall deeper.

Because it was impossible, because she wasn't worthy, because there was no future.

Her origins as an orphan, raised by Avery, her body abused and mistreated by countless men.

And her beautiful face, which only made her feel more insecure.

She didn't believe that Elvis could have genuine feelings for someone who bore the face of his own sister, someone seen as a pitiable and cheap substitute...

In the afternoon, as the children went to their classes or naps, Elsie was in the laundry room, sitting on a small stool, her delicate hands soaking in warm water, washing the children's clothes.

"Why not use a washing machine? This must be exhausting."

She lifted her face to look at the man standing before her, then lowered her head again to focus on her task,

"The kids' clothes get very dirty, and machines don't clean them well enough. I have to wash the extremely dirty ones by hand. The children here don't have family to care for them, and the teachers can't keep up, so I help with what I can. You, living a life of luxury, wouldn't understand."

"Hey, how could I not understand? I used to wash my little sister's clothes and undergarments by hand."

Elvis pulled up a chair to sit opposite her, shedding his coat and rolling up the sleeves of his black shirt to reveal forearms taut with latent strength.

"You washed them yourself? But your family must have had plenty of servants." Elsie's eyes widened, incredulous.

"For my own sister, of course, I had to take care of her. No one else was allowed to touch her," Elvis said with pride.

Elvis skillfully took up a wet garment and began to scrub.

Elvis' heart skipped a beat, and he looked up at her in shock.

"Not all orphanages are sanctuaries for children. Some can be hell on earth."

Elsie's hands were red from the washing, her voice soft as a feather, "In a way, I have to thank Mr. Chambers. If he hadn't rescued me on that cold, hungry night, I might have died on the streets. It was he who took me in, allowing me to live until today."

But what she didn't say was that Avery had not led her to salvation.

He had introduced her to a hell far worse than being beaten, scolded, or starved.

"In the world of women, you indeed have an incredibly strong psyche."

Elvis tried to look nonchalant as he wrung out his shirt, "If I were in their shoes, left with such a deep scar, I might never set foot in this place again."

"But there's a saying, right? 'It's because you've walked through the rain, that you want to hold the umbrella for someone else.' It's precisely because I've suffered in places like this, endured hardships, that I don't want to see the kids here go down the same path. Seeing their happy faces truly fills me with joy." Elsie's smile was as warm as the spring sun, her words heartfelt.

Elvis' lips pressed into a thin line, deeply moved.

He knew, she wasn't just helping the kids. She was healing herself, patching up the scars of her own troubled childhood.

"Ms. Archer." At that moment, a teacher approached the door. "Could you please come here for a moment?"

"I'll be right there."

Elsie quickly stood, wiped her hands dry with her jacket, and hurried off.

Just then, Elvis heard a soft "clink."

A silver object lay glinting in the afternoon sun.

Elvis moved closer and bent down slowly to pick up the pendant Elsie had dropped.

Squinting in the sunlight, he carefully examined it.

Click—

The round pendant popped open, revealing the unfamiliar face of a young girl. Her youthful and delicate features silently struck a chord in his heart.