My Possesive Ex-Husband

Chapter 11

"Let's work together."

Jordan, Alex’s cousin, raised a single eyebrow, his forehead furrowing as he locked his gaze onto Evelyn. He looked at the woman before him with a sneer dripping with cold contempt.

"After being discarded by your husband’s family, you crawl over here to fawn over me? Save your breath. There is no point in flattering a disgrace of the Archer family. I am no longer a part of that wretched lineage!" Jordan spat, his voice harsh and abrasive.

Evelyn merely let out a soft chuckle, completely unfazed by Jordan’s razor-sharp words.

"Fawn over you? I came here to offer a collaboration that will, of course, be highly lucrative for you as well. Are you truly not interested?" Evelyn countered, her voice terrifyingly calm and laced with absolute confidence.

Jordan took a deep drag from his cigarette, letting out a rough bark of laughter at what he considered a hollow bluff. He deliberately blew a thick cloud of smoke directly into Evelyn’s face, a blatant display of his distaste.

"Lucrative? In what cosmic way?" Jordan asked, his tone mocking.

"Aren't you the one who was originally supposed to inherit Grandfather Archer’s empire?"

That single sentence caused Jordan’s entire expression to warp. He stared at Evelyn, his eyes suddenly turning rigid with tension.

"That was before your ex-husband stripped everything from my life! He and his power-hungry father successfully managed to systematically destroy me!" Jordan barked, the repressed fury of a decade bleeding through his words.

Evelyn curled her lips into a smile that managed to look breathtakingly sweet yet lethal at the exact same time. She recognized the bottomless abyss of hatred festering in Jordan’s eyes.

"I can help you seize it back. What rightfully belongs to you. You were the prime candidate for the inheritance back when I first entered that family. But suddenly, two years later, you were entangled in a devastating scandal, discarded, and cast out by the Archers. Logan was the architect behind all of it."

Jordan’s eyes bulged, widening in absolute shock. "What? What the hell do you mean by that?"

"I am well aware that my former father-in-law utilized filthy, underhanded tactics to eliminate you as the primary heir. He manipulated every single piece of the puzzle so that only Alex would appear worthy of the crown," Evelyn explained, her cadence intensely persuasive.

Hearing those words, Jordan’s blood turned to boiling oil. He erupted. With a lightning-fast, impulsive lunge, he slammed his hand against Evelyn’s throat, pinning her down with a crushing pressure.

"Say that again! Say exactly what you mean by that! Manipulation? Uncle Logan did that? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!" Jordan roared directly into her face.

Evelyn did not panic, instead, her lips carved into a chilling smirk. With complete serenity, she gently stroked Jordan’s hand—the very hand currently choking the life out of her—as if she were soothing a feral, raging beast.

"That is precisely why you need to help me dismantle them. Let us deliver a crushing blow to the monsters who ruined your existence."

Jordan’s grip slowly loosened, his hand eventually dropping back to his side. He panted heavily, staring blankly at his own trembling fingers. He had almost forgotten that he was once a high-society prince, destined to be the sole heir to his grandfather’s multi-billion-dollar empire.

Yet, because of a catastrophic scandal that broke overnight, his grandfather had raged. He was banished, vilified, and stripped of his birthright without a shred of mercy. And now, out of nowhere, a woman who had once been part of that inner sanctum was offering him a chalice of revenge.

Should he drink from it?

Dismantling Logan and Alex—his own cousin—sounded like a beautiful, poetic melody to a man who no longer had a single thing left to lose.

Evelyn scanned the cramped, grimy mechanics shop Jordan operated, her eyes assessing the space with cold judgment. She wrinkled her nose, finding a profound irony in seeing the man brought so low—living in conditions far removed from decency.

"Contact me when you are ready to forge an alliance. When I say I can assist you, it is anything but a bluff," Evelyn murmured, sliding a sleek, thin business card between her supple fingers.

Jordan didn't offer an immediate response. Frankly, he remained trapped in a state of profound shock after hearing that Uncle Logan was the architect of his ruin. Though he knew his uncle was a tyrant hungry for control, a fraction of hesitation lingered; when his own parents had passed away, it was Uncle Logan who had overseen his affairs.

Evelyn let out a sharp, quiet scoff, recognizing the hesitation pooling in Jordan’s eyes. She knew she had to strike the final, lethal blow to his pride.

"Just look at yourself. You were once the crown prince of the Archers, but now?" Evelyn paused deliberately, her eyes sweeping over the dark grease stains marking Jordan's mechanic coveralls.

"You are merely the operator of a filthy garage, spending your days battling rust and soiled oil." It was the ultimate puncture to Jordan’s dignity. She wanted him thoroughly baited, fully primed to dance across the chessboard she had so meticulously designed.

Evelyn turned on her heel, her stiletto heels clicking sharply against the dusty concrete floor as she walked away. She left Jordan standing frozen in the midst of the scent of gasoline and corrosion, allowing his hatred to fester like a poisonous weed.

.

.

Alex violently pounded against the apartment door in a state of unhinged panic. For two agonizing days, he had received absolutely zero word from his ex-wife. Like an oasis torn from the desert, Alex went completely feral. He was thirsty—desperately craving the presence of Evelyn, who had become the most lethal addiction to his soul.

"Evelyn! I know you are inside! OPEN THE DOOR, EVELYN!" Alex roared, his voice echoing violently through the desolate hallway.

"EVELYN!"

With trembling fingers, Alex fished his phone from his pocket. He dialed her number for the countless time, only for the chillingly detached voice of the automated operator to inform him that the line was disconnected.

Alex lost all grip on his composure. He smashed his fists against the reinforced door repeatedly until his skin turned raw and bruised. The chaotic racket finally drew the attention of a security guard, who approached with a stern, rigid expression.

"Sir, I must ask you to stop creating a disturbance here!" the guard barked.

Alex snapped his head around, his eyes wild, his chest heaving. "Do you know the tenant of this unit?!"

"Ah, the lady in this unit? Two days ago, she cleared out all her belongings. She explicitly stated she was moving out," the guard replied calmly.

"Moving? Moving where?! You know her destination, don't you?!" Alex caught the guard by his shoulders, violently demanding an answer.

"Of course..." the guard dragged out his words, causing Alex to stare with a desperate, climbing hope.

"Of course I don't. Is it truly my job to monitor people's private lives to that extent?" the guard continued, forcefully removing Alex’s hands from his uniform.

Alex let out a harsh, ragged breath, running his fingers through his hair in utter frustration. His hope was violently dropped right back into the abyss.

"Then I demand to see the last CCTV footage of Evelyn leaving this building. You have it, don't you?" Alex ordered, his voice dripping with authority.

"Naturally we do. You may request it from me. But for what purpose? Who exactly are you to her?" the guard asked, his eyes narrowing with deep suspicion.

"I am her husband. She is my wife," Alex replied firmly, without a single shred of hesitation, completely disregarding the fact that a judge had stripped away that title.

"A-ah, a marital dispute, then? No wonder the lady left in such a desperate hurry," the guard muttered, nodding understandingly. "Very well, follow me to my office if you wish to review the footage."

Without a word, Alex trailed closely behind the guard. Inside his chest, a dark vow took root: he would pursue Evelyn to the absolute ends of the earth. He would never let her slip away, not after realizing that existence without her was nothing more than a torturous, agonizing vacuum.

.

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In front of the monitor inside the security office, Alex froze as the tape played. Evelyn was shown pausing briefly in the apartment parking lot. With a calm yet deliberate, heavy movement, she discarded something into the trash receptacle right at the corner of the lot.

Immediately after, Evelyn tilted her head up, staring directly into the lens of the CCTV camera as if she knew his eyes would be lingering on that exact screen eventually.

She curled her lips into a bizarre smile—a look that felt incredibly icy and mocking. She swung a heavy, bulging leather duffel bag toward the camera lens. Her actions were entirely calculated, a visual transmission left specifically for her ex-husband.

"What is she saying?" Alex murmured, completely bewildered. His brow furrowed deeply as he tracked the movement of Evelyn’s lips, which clearly formed words without a sound toward the camera while she hoisted the bag.

"What did she throw away? I have to find it!" Alex muttered, completely consumed by his obsession.

The security guard standing beside Alex in the cramped room frowned deeply. He could feel that the dynamic between this couple was profoundly abnormal.

"Are you two truly husband and wife? To fight this bitterly, yet still be this consumed by each other?" the guard asked in sheer bewilderment.

Alex paid no mind to the man's commentary. He repeatedly replayed the footage, slowing down the playback frame by frame, analyzing every curve and shift of Evelyn’s lips with absolute precision.

"Thank... you..." Alex whispered, mimicking the movements on the screen.

"For... the... money... from... your... father?"

Alex’s eyes widened to their absolute limits as the realization struck his brain. His jaw locked instantly.

The monstrous ocean of rage within him violently shifted directions—no longer directed at Evelyn, but entirely at his own father.

BANG!

Alex slammed his fist against the security console, causing the guard beside him to jump in fright. Without uttering a single word, he tore out of the room. His footsteps fell heavy and frantic against the floor, carrying a tempest of pure fury ready to detonate across the grand estate of the Archer family.

His father had violated the ultimate boundary, and to Alex, touching Evelyn with blood money was the greatest desecration of his love.