Chased By My Billionaire Ex-husband
Chapter 162: Trouble Is My Middle Name

Chapter 162: Trouble Is My Middle Name

Damian’s POV

Caspian chuckled. "Well, if you are not into me, just say so. No need to get harsh on me."

"Go to hell!" I yelled, grabbing my phone and tossing it onto the couch.

As I stormed toward the door, ready to kick my assistant and Caspian out of my life for at least the next five minutes, there was a sudden knock on the door.

"Perfect timing!" Caspian said as it seemed the call didn’t disconnect instead was on speaker now. "Maybe it’s your executioner. Should we let them in, Mr. assistant?"

I inhaled deeply. "Shut up."

With a deep breath, I swung the door open, half-expecting Evander himself to be standing there with murder in his eyes. Instead, it was my dear sister in law, covered in a mask, cap, and goggles.

"Uh, Mr. Strome," she said timidly.

Caspian burst into laughter behind me. "Oh, Damian! It looks like your death has arrived."

I groaned, resisting the urge to hang up the call, but I couldn’t risk leaving Claire standing at my doorstep. The last thing I needed was for someone to snap more photos of us together.

"Why the hell are you here?" I asked, my voice a mix of frustration and panic. My face had already turned pale just seeing her at my door.

"I needed to talk to you," Claire replied, her tone calm but firm.

I clutched my hair in disbelief, releasing an exasperated sigh as I reluctantly stepped aside and gestured for her to come in. "Shouldn’t you have just called, Mrs. Kensington?"

"I did call, but you were busy somewhere," she shot back, and I couldn’t exactly deny it.

"Yes, he was busy planning to escape death," Caspian’s voice chimed in from the phone, his laughter as irritating as ever.

"What the—who’s that?" Claire’s eyes widened in alarm, clearly startled by the third voice other than me and my assistant’s.

"Oh, it’s Caspian," I said, my tone flat as I plopped down on the couch. "He is currently trying to convince me to become his boyfriend so I can escape Evander’s wrath."

"What?!" Claire’s jaw dropped, her wide eyes darting between me and the phone.

"Yep," I replied, completely deadpan. "And honestly, you showing up here has made me seriously consider his offer. After today... I am not sure I will live to see tomorrow." I slumped further into the couch, dramatically throwing my head back like a man with no hope left.

"Why would Evander do anything to you? He is your friend," Claire said, her voice tinged with genuine confusion.

I stared at her, unsure if she was oblivious to the world around her or just hopelessly naïve. "You are kidding, right?"

Before I could respond further, Caspian’s voice crackled through the phone again. "Sis-in-law!" he greeted cheerfully. Despite clearly enjoying himself, he still hadn’t bothered to hang up.

"You really don’t know your husband, do you? That man is absolutely crazy about you. Sure, he might not actually kill Damian, but trust me, having Evander mad at you? It’s a fate worse than death for the person who messed with you."

For once, Caspian said something that actually made sense. Evander probably wouldn’t physically harm me, but facing the icy cold shoulder of a man already colder than a blizzard? Now that was terrifying.

Claire, however, seemed entirely unbothered by the situation. "Damian, stop being so dramatic. I am sure Evander will understand once we explain everything."

"Explain what?" I threw my hands in the air. "That you are in my room after we were already dragged into a scandal? That Caspian is now my unofficial PR manager? That I might have to flee the country tomorrow."

Caspian laughed. "Relax, Damian. If Evander shows up, just tell him I was here too, offering moral support. Problem solved!"

"Go to hell, Caspian!" I snapped, but Claire couldn’t help letting out a small laugh.

At least someone was enjoying this nightmare.

"So, why are you here?" my assistant finally asked the question we’d all been dying to ask.

"Me?" Claire said, pointing to herself with a hint of surprise.

"Yes, you," I said, rolling my eyes. "He is talking to you, not the invisible audience."

Claire frowned but ignored my sarcasm. "I needed to leave the set for a day or two, so... can you please help me?" she asked as she pulled down her mask, her expression unusually serious.

"Why are you telling me this?" I groaned, throwing my hands in the air. "Do you have a death wish for me? Do you really want that jealous bull to turn me into a headline?"

"Enough, Damian!" Claire glared at me, her voice firm as she crossed her arms. "Mr. Kensington isn’t taking my calls, and... I need to go back home to clear things up with him."

"Wait, seriously?" I perked up, my eyes sparkling with a glimmer of hope. "You mean you are actually going to explain everything to him? Like... everything?"

"Yes," she said, her tone softening slightly. "I want to talk to him face-to-face and sort out this mess."

"Thank the heavens!" I muttered, practically collapsing onto the couch in relief. "If you do that, I will live to see another day."

I turned toward my assistant, I clapped my hands together like I was announcing the most important mission of his life. "Take her to the airport immediately," I instructed. "Keep her safe. Wrap her in bubble wrap if you have to. And don’t let a single paparazzo even breathe in her direction."

My assistant blinked at me, clearly unimpressed by my dramatics, but nodded. "Got it."

Claire smiled faintly, though I could tell she was still worried. "Thank you, Brother Damian. And... sorry for all the trouble."

"Trouble? Oh, Claire," I said, placing a hand over my heart. "Trouble is my middle name. Just make sure that when you explain everything to Evander, you tell him I am not harboring some secret crush on you, okay? Because if you don’t..." I trailed off, dramatically drawing my finger across my neck.

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