My Possesive Ex-Husband

Chapter 17

Hearing that painfully familiar voice, Alex’s adrenaline surged violently. Without giving Evelyn a single fraction of a second to react or scream, he moved with lightning-fast reflexes, seizing her by the waist and dragging her forcefully into the furthest, last cubicle of the restroom.

CLICK!

The sharp sound of the lock engaging felt deafening in the tight space. Alex instantly spun Evelyn around, pinning her flat against the wooden door of the cubicle, while his left hand clamped over her mouth in a suffocating grip.

"Quiet... I just want to be with you a little longer, Evelyn," Alex rasped hoarsely, his ragged breaths scorching the sensitive skin of her neck. His eyes flared with a desperate intensity, a chaotic mix of pleading and dangerous threat, warning her not to make the slightest sound.

Evelyn thrashed against him, her fingers clawing at the thick wrist covering her mouth as she fought to shatter his hold. But inside the narrow confines of the stall, Alex had her completely locked down. Their chests heaved in unyielding contact, creating a frantic, overlapping rhythm of heartbeats racing for entirely different reasons.

"Alex? Are you in there? I saw you walk in here just a moment ago," Cindy’s voice materialized directly outside the row of cubicles.

The rhythmic click of her stiletto heels ground to a halt. Cindy stood motionless, likely analyzing the narrow gaps beneath each door one by one.

"Alex? This isn't funny. The cake-cutting ceremony is about to commence. Papa is already searching for you," Cindy added, her tone fracturing with mounting irritation and deep suspicion.

Inside the stall, Alex squeezed his eyes shut, muzzling his breath as if the entire world would fracture if he let out a single sigh. He could feel the scalding tears of Evelyn’s rage bleeding against his palm. The toxic cocktail of guilt, displaced passion, and the paralyzing dread of losing her forever caused him to wrap his arms

even tighter around her frame.

"Shh..." Alex whispered in an airy, nearly imperceptible breath against her forehead. "Please, just be still for a moment."

Outside, Cindy’s fingers finally brushed against the locked handle of their door.

CREAK. CREAK.

"Locked? Alex, are you in there? Are you unwell?" Cindy questioned, her cadence now dripping with unadulterated suspicion.

Cindy was on the absolute verge of forcing the door open when the phone inside her clutch suddenly rang loudly. She froze, pausing for a beat before answering the call with an agitated breath.

"It's me. Ah, very well. I will be right there," Cindy uttered shortly.

She let out a sharp click of her tongue, casting one final, lingering look at the locked cubicle door before ultimately choosing to turn on her heel and exit the restroom. The heavy, stomping rhythm of her strides gradually faded, vanishing entirely behind the main entrance door.

.

.

Only when a profound silence reclaimed the space did Alex slowly lower his hand from her face. Evelyn instantly whirled around, her eyes flashing with a catastrophic wave of overflowing rage. Without a single heartbeat of warning, she delivered a brutal slap straight across his cheek.

SLAP!

Alex’s head snapped to the side from the impact. The violent crack of the strike echoed sharply within the tiled walls.

"Stop treating me like your goddamn property! I have articulated this a thousand times—we no longer possess a single thread of a connection!" Evelyn hissed sharply, her voice trembling violently beneath the weight of unshed tears and pure fury.

Alex didn't retaliate against the blow. Instead, he kept his head bowed, thoroughly dissolving his sky-high ego before the woman standing in front of him.

"I will do anything. Anything you demand. But please... just stay by my side," Alex whispered hoarsely, a plea that sounded hollow with absolute desperation.

Evelyn’s brow furrowed, staring at him with a gaze of complete, shattered disbelief.

"What do you mean by that... you want me to serve as your kept woman, is that it?!"

"Only until the development project in Hawai is concluded. After that, I will return to you, Evelyn. I will dismantle everything, I promise," Alex vowed, lunging to grasp her hands, but she aggressively swiped them out of his reach.

Evelyn let out a sharp, cynical chuckle—a sound heavily laced with a phantom pain. "If you claim to love me, do not do it in halves, Alex! You look utterly, sickeningly greedy. You desperately crave me, yet you refuse to forfeit a single fraction of the lavish empire you currently hold."

Evelyn idly adjusted the fabric of her gown, which had been left slightly disheveled from his rough assault. She leveled him with the coldest, most detached gaze she had ever conjured.

"And I am sorry, but I refuse to play the role of your mistress!" Evelyn declared rigidly before twisting the lock and storming out of the cubicle with hurried, echoing strides.

.

.

"DAMN IT!" Alex roared the exact second she vanished from his line of sight.

He smashed his fist against the reinforced wall of the cubicle repeatedly, entirely numb to the sharp pain blooming across his fractured knuckles. Stepping in front of the sweeping mirror, he stared at the chaotic wreck of his reflection with a dark, terrifyingly vacant gaze.

"I utilized the most gentle methods available to reclaim you," Alex hissed at his own shadow in the glass. "Do not dare lay the blame on me when I resort to a far more brutal path, Evelyn."

.

.

"Re-enter the enterprise. I have penalized you for far too long. I am well aware of how desperately you have struggled out there in the world,"

Grandfather Archer stated, his deep baritone dripping with absolute authority. He took a slow, measured sip of his tea, before locking his gaze onto the grandson he had once brutally discarded, his eyes unreadable. "Bury the past. Return and commence your duties within the firm once more."

Jordan curled the corner of his lips into a meaningful, crooked smirk. A few moments ago, he had been waiting for Evelyn near the grand hall, only for his grandfather’s executive secretary to intercept him, commanding him to meet the patriarch inside one of the hotel’s exclusive private rooms.

"What you mean to say, Grandfather... is that this useless disgrace is finally being welcomed back into the inner sanctum?" Jordan asked, making zero effort to mask his sharp sarcasm.

"I am positioning you as Alex’s primary executive assistant. Return," the old man replied flatly, cutting straight through the theatrics.

Jordan let out a low chuckle. Despite his advanced years, the patriarch of the Archer family remained an ice-cold, deeply calculating monster.

The offer sounded beautifully sweet on the surface, but Jordan possessed the foresight to realize the title of 'assistant' was merely a clinical strategy to force him into Alex’s shadow—and, of course, to keep him under constant surveillance.

"Are you entirely certain you won't regret allowing me back?" Jordan questioned once more, wanting to ensure the old man would have to swallow his own narrative eventually.

"Hm. Return. Assist Alex," the patriarch countered shortly, tapping his heavy walking cane against the floorboards once.

Jordan offered a slow nod, the gears inside his mind already turning to construct a devastating grand strategy. Re-entering the corporate empire meant he would secure direct access to every single proprietary document the Archer family had spent years concealing from the public. It was a flawless, perfect window of opportunity—most exquisitely because he would be positioned right at Alex’s flank.

"Very well, Grandfather. If that is your ultimate desire, I shall return," Jordan uttered smoothly.

.

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The Grand Ballroom

Evelyn emerged from the restroom corridor with a rigid, powerful stride, though her psyche still vibrated unsteadily from Alex’s raw assault. She scanned the sprawling crowd in search of Jordan, until the man finally materialized from the private wing, his features illuminating with an aura that looked exponentially brighter—or perhaps, far more lethal.

"Where the hell did you vanish to?" Evelyn asked softly as Jordan closed the distance between them.

Jordan casually wound his arm around her shoulders, projecting an intimate display of affection for the high-society crowd, well aware that Alex’s eyes were likely tracking them from afar.

"Grandfather has just demanded my return to the enterprise, Evelyn," Jordan whispered directly into her ear.

Evelyn flinched slightly, her eyes instantly igniting with a calculating, sharp glint. "Truly? And what is your designation?"

"Alex’s assistant," Jordan replied with a slow, wicked smirk. "Is this not beautiful? We will be positioned right within their blind spot now. The true hell has only just commenced."

Evelyn curled her lips into a slow smile. This cards had fallen far better than her initial calculations. With Jordan embedded deep within the corporate throat of the firm, she possessed a perfect spy to dismantle the Archer dynasty from the inside out, while simultaneously inflicting a devastating amount of psychological torture upon Alex every single day.