Chased By My Billionaire Ex-husband

Chapter 189: End Of The Shooting

Claire’s POV

"Cut!"

The director’s voice echoed across the set. His excitement was evident as he clapped his hands together. The entire crew joined in, cheering and celebrating.

"That’s a wrap!" he announced, beaming with pride. "You all did an amazing job. Thank you for your hard work these past few months."

I exhaled deeply, feeling a wave of exhaustion and relief wash over me. The final scene with Damian and mine was done. It was over.

While everyone was busy congratulating each other, I stepped aside, taking a moment to process everything. The whole production had been a whirlwind, but the real challenge had been working with Damian, as he was really busy these days.

Everything was already set for all of us but something unexpected happened to him because of Caspian’s paranoia over his lover. Damian had been facing problems with his company, forcing him to take an extended break. During that time, opportunities started pouring in for me. I got lucky, landing several ad campaigns and even becoming the main face of a luxury perfume brand.

My name had been trending non-stop, though not always for the right reasons. Some people still shipped me and Damian together, fueling rumors and wild speculations. Others were less kind, accusing me of using him to climb the ladder.

Honestly? They weren’t entirely wrong.

If it weren’t for Damian, I wouldn’t have gotten this role in the first place. Without him, Sissy and I might have starved to death by now.

I clenched my fists, pushing back the bitter thoughts.

No matter what anyone said, I had worked hard. I had given my all to this project, and I wouldn’t let anyone take that away from me.

Still, deep down, I knew the road ahead wasn’t going to be easy. There were still villains lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike. But I wouldn’t let them win. I had fought too hard and endured too much. This time, I would protect what was mine —I would save my husband from them, no matter what.

No one would ever separate us again.

"Hey, what are you thinking about here in the corner?"

A light nudge on my arm snapped me out of my thoughts. I turned to see Candice, the female lead of the project, grinning at me with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"You seemed to be looking at Mr. Strome," she teased, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Wh... What!?" My jaw nearly dropped. "Miss Candice, it’s not what you think! Mr. Strome is like a brother to me."

"Really? A brother?" She dragged out the word, eyeing me suspiciously. "Nothing else, right?"

"Obviously," I refuted instantly, my heart skipping a beat.

If that Oh-so-jealous man of mine heard this conversation, he might set the whole world on fire. Evander was barely containing himself these days—one wrong move, and I was sure he would go full-on possessive beast mode.

"And besides," I continued, tilting my chin up, "I have liked someone since childhood, and I will only ever be with him for the rest of my life."

Candice’s eyes widened with interest. "Wait! So, you already have someone you like? You are sure you don’t like Mr. Strome?"

I shot her a deadpan look. "Not even in my dreams." And then something struck to my mind.

I narrowed my eyes at her before smirking. "Don’t tell me, Senior Candice, that you like Senior Damian?"

Candice instantly recoiled, waving her hands dramatically as if I had just accused her of something outrageous. "W-What!? No way! You got it all wrong!"

Her exaggerated reaction only confirmed my suspicions.

"Oh?" I hummed knowingly, crossing my arms. "You denied it a little too quickly, Senior."

"Because it’s not true!" she huffed, cheeks slightly flushed.

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Alright, alright. Whatever you say."

Candice pouted, clearly flustered.

Meanwhile, my mind wandered back to a certain possessive man, who was most likely around here somewhere. If he had even heard this conversation, I would be in trouble.

I sighed. Evander, you really don’t make my life easy, do you?

"Come on, everyone! We are going to drown ourselves in drinks today!"

The director’s booming voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I had been scanning the area, searching for Evander, but there was still no sign of him.

Was he not here today?

"Claire, you are not going to decline drinks today, are you!?" The director grinned mischievously, his eyes twinkling with mischief. It was clear he was set on getting me dead drunk tonight.

"Yes, right! You have been avoiding all the parties lately," someone else chimed in. "At this point, everyone thinks you don’t like our company!"

I forced a small smile, but deep down, I was panicking. I was terrible at drinking, and to make matters worse, I had a history of strange allergic reactions to alcohol. It didn’t happen every time, but it was enough for me to be cautious.

Should I just fake an excuse and leave?

Just as I was struggling for a way out, a cold, commanding voice cut through the lively atmosphere like a blade.

"Who is planning to make my junior drink?"

The entire room went silent.

I turned my head, and there stood Damian, fresh from changing his attire. His sharp gaze swept over the group, his presence instantly shifting the mood.

The director chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ah, Damian! We were just—"

"I don’t care what you were just doing," Damian interrupted coolly, stepping closer. His gaze landed on me, his expression unreadable. "Claire doesn’t drink."

Everyone exchanged glances, the previous enthusiasm dying down.

I exhaled softly, relieved. But at the same time, a chill ran down my spine.

A new rumors was on it’s way and....

Because I knew someone else would not be happy about this.

And just as I had feared, before anyone could say another word, the air shifted again.

A strong, possessive aura filled the room, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

I didn’t even have to turn around.

Evander was here.

And he was not happy.

"Seems like you really do care about Miss Reed," someone commented slyly. "And here you both kept denying it."

I froze, my fingers twitching. Really? Do you want me to die of exhaustion in bed or what?!

Damian who was standing beside me, suddenly looked tense, his jaw tightening. It was obvious he was trying to brush off the topic and get us out of here. But, of course, someone had to stir the pot.

I sighed, preparing to say something, when my eyes fell on Damian again. He was sweating.

Wait. Why was he sweating?

Before I could even process what was happening, he suddenly blurted out, "Evan! You are here."

My heart dropped.

Slowly, I turned my head, and he was really here right behind me. I mean, I knew he was here but so close to hear everything! Damn them!

Evander stood at his place, his gaze fixed solely on me. His sharp, chiseled features were unreadable, but the tension in his stance spoke volumes. The room suddenly felt much smaller, and the once lively chatter had dimmed into cautious murmurs.

Damn it. Just how long had he been standing there?

"I... I need to leave," I stammered, forcing a polite smile. "I have some prior appointments tonight."

I made a move to slip away, but before I could take a single step, Evander’s voice cut through the air.

"Miss Claire."

That was all he said.

And yet, it sent a shiver down my spine.

I stopped, my body stiffening as I glanced at him over my shoulder. His expression remained unreadable, but I knew that tone all too well. It wasn’t a request. It was a command.

And just like that, I knew I had zero chance of escaping.

In the end, I found myself at a fancy restaurant with the rest of the crew, reluctantly agreeing to join under the condition that I wouldn’t be forced to drink.

Damian, after a brief chat with Evander, had followed along as well.

And I knew whose idea that was.

That damn man!

He was just too much!

"We have finally finished shooting after so many ups and downs," the producer announced, raising his glass for a toast. A wave of cheers and clinking glasses followed as everyone celebrated the long months of hard work finally coming to an end.

I smiled, feeling a sense of accomplishment, but before I could fully relax, a crew member nudged me.

"Claire, just have one drink! Come on, one last time. We won’t force you after this," he pleaded, his tone playful but persistent.

I hesitated. I had avoided drinking at all costs, but rejecting them again might seem rude.

Just as I was about to reach for my glass, a hand shot out and snatched it away.

Damian.

Without a word, he tilted his head back and downed the entire drink in one go.

I blinked at him in shock.

When he set the empty glass back on the table, he gave me a look—one that subtly shifted toward Evander, who sat there silently, exuding an overwhelming aura of danger.

His expression was blank, but I felt the storm brewing beneath that icy gaze.

Damian’s subtle gesture was clear: Don’t provoke him. Don’t do anything reckless. Spare us all.

I swallowed hard and quickly dropped my hand back onto my lap.

Just then, Damian cleared his throat and clapped his hands together, breaking the tension.