My Possesive Ex-Husband

Chapter 14

Jordan brushed his hands over the expensive tailored suit he wore, feeling the texture of high-quality fabric that hadn't touched his skin in years. He stared at his reflection in the grand mirror of the exclusive salon. His face had been meticulously polished to erase years of dullness, and his hair was now styled into a flawless, elegant shape.

"Ah, it feels like an eternity since I last saw myself looking like this," Jordan murmured in absolute awe as the stylist finished the final touches.

Evelyn, standing directly behind him, placed her hands on his shoulders. She curled her lips into a deeply meaningful smile, locking eyes with him through the reflection.

"Just look at yourself. You always belonged in a suit like this, far more than in the grease-stained rags of a mechanic," Evelyn praised, her voice sounding like the seductive whisper of a devil.

Jordan offered a thin smirk, feeling the long-buried tendrils of his confidence begin to bloom again. "So, tonight we are attending the reception of your beloved dog?"

"Stop calling him a dog. I am the only one permitted to use that descriptor," Evelyn countered with a low chuckle that sounded dangerously ice-cold.

Jordan turned his head slightly, his brow furrowing as he analyzed her face. "Tch, you still love him, don't you? What if you hesitate? Because what we are about to execute will damn well break Alex eventually."

Evelyn fell silent for a fraction of a second. She idly stroked her bare arm, which she had purposefully left exposed tonight. She wore a deep, scorching crimson sleeveless dress that hugged her curves flawlessly, projecting an aura of elegant sexuality—the exact kind of provocative appearance that never failed to drive Alex into a blind, possessive fury.

"I will not hesitate," Evelyn replied rigidly, her eyes flashing with a razor-sharp intensity. "I already told you that your sole purpose is to serve as my weapon, and in return, I will hand back everything you lost. As for the state of my heart, it is entirely none of your business."

Jordan merely nodded slowly, forced to realize that the woman standing before him had gone completely numb under the weight of a consuming vengeance. "You truly are a cunning fox."

"Thank you for the compliment," Evelyn replied, casually slinging her clutch over her shoulder. "Let us depart. I refuse to let us miss the look of utter horror on my former mother-in-law's face when she sees you step back into their world."

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"Evelyn..."

Alex clenched his fists so fiercely his bones creaked as he witnessed Evelyn making a grand entrance alongside—his cousin?!

Evelyn is mine, DON'T YOU DARE STEAL HER FROM ME!Alex’s psyche tortured him, bleeding from the sight of Evelyn acting so intimately with his fallen cousin.

Evelyn glided forward with her chin defiantly tilted, walking with absolute authority through the center of the sprawling, opulent ballroom. Her lips carved into a mocking smirk as she caught the gaze of Alex, who stood frozen on the wedding stage—a gaze that wasn't merely sharp, but entirely fractured by the raging fires of jealousy.

In the front pews, Madam Viola stared at Evelyn and Jordan in absolute shock, a low growl of pure fury escaping her throat. Her face flushed a violent crimson from an explosive mix of humiliation and rage.

"Logan, what is the meaning of this?! I thought you said you had permanently removed her?!" Madam Viola whispered urgently, her tone fracturing with desperation as she gripped her husband's arm.

Logan offered no response. His eyes narrowed to lethal slits as he tracked Evelyn, who stood in her scorching, highly provocative crimson gown, framed perfectly beside Jordan. Logan had received quiet word that his own father had secretly extended an invitation to Jordan to attend this reception, but he had never in his wildest nightmares anticipated that Jordan would use Evelyn to infiltrate their inner sanctum.

Jordan walked with absolute, unyielding confidence. He no longer kept his head bowed like a mechanic defeated by fate. He marched straight toward Grandfather Archer, who sat in the absolute center of the front row directly before the wedding stage.

Evelyn remained securely draped over his arm, as if silently broadcasting to the entire high-society crowd that she was the architect behind this resurrected power.

"So, you finally condescended to show your face?" Grandfather Archer asked, his voice a heavy, gravelly rasp.

Jordan offered a polite, clinical bow. Deep down, he fought to bury the agonizing memory of how, three years ago, this exact man had cruelly banished him from the estate without a shred of mercy.

"It is a distinct honor that Mr. Archer saw fit to extend an invitation to me," Jordan replied in a stark, formal cadence.

The old man visibly recoiled upon hearing his own flesh and blood address him so detachedly as 'Mr. Archer.' The phantom echo of his own voice screaming, 'You are no longer a grandson of mine!' flashed violently in his brain. Grandfather Archer cleared his throat harshly, his fingers tightening like iron claws around the head of his walking cane.

"And you... arrive in the company of your cousin's ex-wife?!" the patriarch barked, his sharp gaze shifting to Evelyn, who stood beside Jordan with a razor-thin smile.

Jordan locked his fingers securely through Evelyn’s palm. "She is my companion."

Evelyn curled her lips into a smile that managed to look breathtakingly serene yet utterly lethal. She bowed with an elegant, irony-laden gesture, resting her hand lightly against her chest.

"Good evening, Grandfather. Pray, do not distress yourself; I am merely here to provide Jordan with adequate company tonight," Evelyn intoned melodically, her voice smooth as silk.

Up on the wedding stage, Alex had reached the absolute precipice of his control. He stared down at Evelyn’s hand, which remained intimately entwined with Jordan’s arm—the man he knew had been his most devastating rival in the past. Alex’s breathing turned ragged and shallow. If it weren't for the terrifyingly restrictive glare his father was leveling at him from below, Alex would have leapt from the stage to tear Evelyn out of that sanctuary by force.

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"Would you care for a drink?" Jordan asked with a show of profound tenderness, deliberately elevating his voice so that it carried to the surrounding elite, and most importantly, straight to Alex.

Evelyn merely offered a fleeting smile, shaking her head with a slow, elegant motion. Her movements were so flawlessly regal, she looked like a queen commanding her court rather than a woman who had just been discarded by the lineage hosting the event.

From the periphery of her vision, Evelyn could feel the absolute weight of Alex’s gaze boring into her. He stood rigid on the platform, his eyes bloodshot as they swam with a chaotic storm of rage and suffocating longing. Evelyn retaliated against that burning glare with a look of supreme tranquility—a cruel, agonizing contrast to Alex, who looked as though he were on the verge of a complete psychological break.

Two weeks. For two agonizing weeks, Alex had searched the city without a single lead, dialed her number without an answer, and gone entirely mad in the silence of his isolation. And now, Evelyn materialized right before his eyes, looking exponentially more breathtaking and utterly untouchable than ever before.

She is mine! Evelyn is mine! Alex frantically chanted the words inside his skull like a bleeding mantra. His jaw set so hard the cords in his neck strained against his skin. If it weren't for the thousands of judgmental eyes tracking his every movement, he would have violently shattered the constraints of the stage, thrown himself down, and dragged Evelyn out of Jordan’s embrace.

Beside him, Cindy let out a sharp click of her tongue, her features twisting with raw annoyance. She crushed the bridal bouquet in her grip until the pristine petals of the white roses bruised and bled under her fingers. She leveled Evelyn with a gaze of unadulterated hatred—the woman she had dismissed as low-class trash was now effortlessly stealing the spotlight on her own wedding day.

"Shall we pay our respects?" Jordan murmured then. He deliberately tilted his face down, whispering so close to Evelyn’s ear that the strands of their hair brushed together. It was a blatant, devastating provocation that caused the air to catch violently in Alex’s throat.

Evelyn turned to Jordan, flashing the sweetest, most blinding smile she possessed, before offering a slow nod. "Naturally. Let us extend our warmest congratulations to the most 'blessed' couple in the room."

Evelyn and Jordan began their ascent up the steps of the wedding stage. The rhythmic, measured click of Evelyn’s stiletto heels against the platform felt as though it were pacing the frantic, desperate thuds of Alex’s heart.

The exact second they halted before the newlyweds, Evelyn stood directly in front of Alex. The familiar, intoxicating scent of her perfume enveloped his senses, violently awakening the ghosts of the nights they had spent tangled together—nights that Alex still felt were burning hot, but which Evelyn had already reduced to cold ash.

"Congratulations on your marriage, Alex," Evelyn murmured melodically, her voice sounding beautifully sincere yet heavily laced with a lethal poison. She extended her smooth, flawless hand to initiate a handshake.

"May you find absolutely everything you’ve been searching for within Cindy."