Chased By My Billionaire Ex-husband
Chapter 61: My Wife At Home Might Get Jealous!

Chapter 61: My Wife At Home Might Get Jealous!

Evander’s POV

"Where is Claire?" I asked straight away in a cold tone.

Damian raised an eyebrow as he was clearly caught off guard. "What!? Don’t tell me you are really here to meet Claire!" he exclaimed. There was a hint of mockery in his tone. "I wasn’t aware you were such a big fan of that little model."

I narrowed my eyes as the feeling of irritation surged through me. "You were also not aware that I was married?" I scoffed, my words laced with bitterness as I gave him a cold stare.

Damian blinked, his smirk fading slightly. "Well... It was you who didn’t inform me," he said defensively. "If you had, I would have met my sister-in-law myself. And I wouldn’t have let her leave you, no matter what! Maybe then you wouldn’t have turned into the monster you are today." He placed a hand on my shoulder and clearly enjoyed my misery.

"Stop bluffing!" I snapped, shrugging his hand off. "Just lead the way."

The pressure in my chest was becoming unbearable. Every second felt like a year. I needed to see Claire. I needed to see her now. If I didn’t, I might lose the little control I had left.

Damian rolled his eyes before nodding. "Fine. Follow me," he said and walked ahead of me.

We made our way to the room where the audition was being held. Damian led the way as if he had completely forgotten about our scheduled meeting. I couldn’t have been happier about it. Who in their right mind wanted to sit through one of his boring meetings? If this was about money, I was more than willing to write him a check and be done with it.

"Mr. Kensington?" The director stood up politely as soon as he spotted us.

I nodded in acknowledgment as I kept my expression neutral.

"We are glad to have you here! I heard you are the biggest investor in this movie project." The producer stepped forward, extending his hand toward me with a smile.

I suppressed my irritation! I wasn’t here to meet and greet people, and shaking hands wasn’t my thing. I glanced at Zaniel, who immediately understood.

Zaniel stepped in smoothly, taking the producer’s hand in his. "We are still contemplating whether to invest or not," Zaniel said in his usual composed tone. "But yes, if we do, we will be the biggest investors."

The producer’s smile faltered briefly before he plastered it back on. "Oh, don’t worry! We are offering Miss Moreau a role in the movie. It might not be the main role, but it will definitely be impactful!"

I raised an eyebrow, my irritation simmering back. "Why would that mean anything to me?" I said coldly. "I am not here to watch the auditions or discuss casting. I am here for my friend, Damian."

The director said and chuckled nervously. "Oh! It seems you are really shy, Mr. Kensington."

Shy? The audacity of this man. I glared at him icily and waited for him to continue.

The director felt awkward, and it seemed he couldn’t come up with the right words, but just then the producer quickly chimed in, pulling out his phone. "Do you really have no clue, Mr. Kensington? Or are you just playing with us?"

He turned the screen toward me, and my jaw tightened when I saw the headline plastered across the screen. The article was about me and Susan—complete with pictures and a supposed confirmation from none other than Zaniel, the brat standing beside me.

"What the hell is this?" I snapped, my voice dropping dangerously low.

"I didn’t do anything, Boss!" Zaniel instantly waved his hand in no and gazed at Damian, the real culprit!

Damian scratched the back of his head, feigning innocence. "Oh... That? I might have said something about it during my drunken state. But hey, isn’t publicity good for business?"

I glared at him, my hands curling into fists at my sides. "Publicity?" I hissed. "Do you have any idea what you have just done?"

The producer and director exchanged uneasy glances, clearly sensing the tension but not daring to intervene.

Damian raised his hands in mock surrender. "Relax, Evan. It’s not like anyone believed it anyway. You are untouchable, remember?"

My patience was wearing thin, but before I could respond, the door to the audition room opened.

And there she was. Claire.

All the noise around me faded. My pulse quickened, and I felt a strange mix of relief and pain wash over me. She looked different, yet the same— just as radiant as I remembered.

For a moment, I forgot about Damian, the producers, and the damn article. All I could focus on was her.

But then her eyes met mine, and the warmth in them vanished, replaced by something colder and distant.

Did... did she find out about the article? The thought hit as I looked into her eyes, searching desperately for a clue. Did she know? If she did, I was in a real trouble.

If Claire believed even a fraction of that nonsense, it would ruin everything before I even had a chance to start chasing after her again. Damn it! I cursed under my breath as she broke our eye contact; her expression was unreadable, and she walked onto the stage with calm, measured steps.

My gaze followed her as I was unable to look away. She looked poised and confident, but something in her demeanor felt off. Was she angry? Hurt? Or was she simply indifferent about the rumor, just like in the past? The uncertainty gnawed at me.

I forced myself to move as I noticed the microphone placed near the seat I was supposed to sit. As I sat down, an idea struck me. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than sitting in silence while my mind filled with strange thoughts.

I leaned toward the mic, my voice deliberately loud and clear. "Don’t you dare mix and match me with just any girl!" I said my tone was light, but my words carried a deeper meaning as my eyes were fixed on her. "My wife at home might get jealous and kick me out of the room!"

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