Chased By My Billionaire Ex-husband

Chapter 190: An Official Complaint?

Claire’s POV

"We will soon have a cast interview, so please keep your schedules free," Damian announced, effortlessly shifting the attention away from the tension in the room.

The crew immediately buzzed with excitement, discussing potential questions and what they would wear for the big event. But I could barely focus.

Underneath the table, my hands clenched into fists.

I didn’t even need to look at Evander to feel the weight of his presence—his possessiveness wrapped around me like invisible chains, suffocating yet intoxicating. If it were me and I found that he might be working with women, I would feel the same.

He hadn’t said a word.

But his silence was more audible than his words.

"Ahem." A deep voice broke through my thoughts.

Evander rose to his feet, his expression calm yet unreadable. "I have to head back home. My son might not sleep without me."

The crew members turned toward him in surprise before someone piped up, "Mr. Kensington, you really are a good father."

"Imagine, if he cares for his son this much, then he would dote on his wife even more," someone else joined the fun.

"You are right," Damian chimed in with a smirk. "He loves his wife so much that he follows her everywhere—even at work—leaving his own work behind."

Laughter erupted around the table.

"Woah, I can’t believe Mr. Kensington is a wife stalker," one of the girls from the crew teased. "I wish I could have something similar as this."

I stiffened, my face heating up as the teasing remarks continued. Meanwhile, Evander remained completely composed, a proud smile curling at his lips as if he were enjoying every second of it.

What was this man thinking?

The director was clearly amused as he leaned forward toward Damian. "Please, tell us more."

"Yes I will," Damian replied as he looked at Evander. "You should stay a little longer, isn’t that right, Claire?" He added, his gaze landing on me with a knowing glint.

I gritted my teeth, barely managing a hum in response.

In truth, I wanted to leave as well. I missed my little Eliam. I wanted to hold him in my arms, read him a bedtime story, and fall asleep next to him. These past weeks of filming had taken so much time away from him.

Lately, since we were shooting in the capital city, it was easier for me to go home and be with my family. But now that my schedule had finally lightened up, Evander had become busier than ever.

Something was troubling him at work. I could see it in his tired eyes, in the way his shoulders tensed even when he tried to hide it.

Yet, he never shared it with me.

Maybe, just this once, he should stay a little longer to relax a bit. Forget the burdens he carried for a while. Even if it meant enduring the teasing for just a bit more.

"Well, let me tell you," Damian began, his voice laced with amusement.

My ears perked up instantly. I, too, was curious to know what Evander had been doing behind my back for me.

"He loves his wife so much that he has an entire room in his basement that looks like a life-sized museum dedicated to her."

Silence fell over the table for a brief moment before murmurs of shock and laughter rippled through the group.

What!?

My head snapped toward Evander, my eyes narrowing in disbelief.

Is that why he never let me enter that room?

I had always been curious about the locked basement door, but whenever I asked, he would casually brush it off, saying there was nothing important in there.

So this was what he was hiding?

I shot him a look, silently warning him that we were definitely going to have a talk about this when we got home.

But, to increase the level of my frustration, my death glare seemed to have no effect on him whatsoever.

Instead, he remained completely unfazed, his lips tilting into a small, unreadable smile.

Then, in his usual calm and deep voice, he finally spoke.

"I am a fan of my wife."

My jaw nearly hit the floor.

"Fa... Fan!?" I stammered, blinking at him in pure shock.

Well... now that I thought about it, he had mentioned once before that he was my fan.

He even had stacks of magazines at home featuring my work.

But to the point where he dedicated an entire room to collecting my things?

A museum-like room?

Seriously!?

"To be honest, I only recently found out about it when I sneaked in while he was busy doing something!" Damian continued dramatically, shaking his head. "I was so shocked that I almost fell to the floor. And then—guess what? Our other friend, who, of course, isn’t exposed to the media, acted as if he had known about it his whole life! Like it was normal!"

Damian shuddered as if recalling a traumatic event. "Gosh! I was terrified!"

I tried to process his words while stealing a glance at Evander. My supposedly rational, composed husband had a museum-like shrine dedicated to me in our basement?

I still couldn’t believe it.

"You sure have the guts to sneak into my house like this," Evander finally spoke, his cold voice cutting through the conversation. His expression remained completely unreadable. "It seems I need to teach you a lesson."

The atmosphere in the room instantly shifted. The once lively chatter died down as an unsettling silence filled the air.

Everyone stiffened.

However, Damian and I knew better.

That was just Evander’s way of being playful.

"Sure, you can do whatever you want, man!" Damian said with a dramatic sigh, waving his hand nonchalantly. "I am all yours. But don’t forget—if you are too busy dealing with me, my sister-in-law might just leave you. And then—"

Before he could finish, Evander suddenly slapped the table in front of him, the sharp sound making a few people flinch.

"No!" he stated firmly, his deep voice leaving no room for doubt. "She won’t ever leave me."

I rolled my eyes at his action. "What if she really does?" I challenged, tilting my head slightly.

A deadly silence followed.

Everyone turned to look at me, their eyes practically screaming, Shut up! Do you want to die?!

"First of all, I believe I love my wife enough for her to stay with me," Evander began, his voice calm yet firm.

I smirked, deciding to tease him a little. "What if she still leaves you after knowing all these facts?"

I meant it as a joke, just a playful joke to see how far he would go. But I had no idea what kind of effect my words would have on him.

The air around us shifted.

The casual laughter and background chatter died down as all eyes turned to Evander.

"No," Evander pronounced, his voice eerily steady yet resolute tone. "She wouldn’t leave me."

He let those words sink in before adding, "And even if she does..."

Again a pause.

I could feel my heartbeat quicken.

"Even if she does," he repeated, his eyes locking onto mine. "I will follow her everywhere and beg her to come back home —even if I have to kneel until she agrees."

The whole room gasped.

Someone audibly choked on their drink.

I felt my entire face burn. My ears tingled, and my hands instinctively gripped the hem of my dress as heat crawled up my neck.

What the hell?!

Damian blinked at Evander as if seeing him in a new light. The director had his mouth slightly open, clearly not expecting such a declaration from the usually cold and reserved Evander Kensington.

"I—" I opened my mouth, but no words came out. My mind went completely blank.

Laughter suddenly erupted from a crew member. "Did I just hear that, right?! Mr. Kensington, the Evander Kensington, is willing to kneel for his wife?!"

"I think I am going to faint," another one dramatically fanned herself.

"This is gold! Someone record this moment in history!"

Amidst all the chaos, I turned to Evander, who sat there completely unfazed—like he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell in front of everyone.

And worse?

There was still the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips.

This man... was absolutely shameless!

"Okay, enough," Damian finally interrupted, shaking his head. "Let this man go, or my nephew will not be able to sleep at this rate."

The crew laughed as the tension eased a little, but the director wasn’t done teasing.

"Why? Isn’t Little Young Master with his mother at the moment?" The director’s playful glint didn’t go unnoticed.

Evander, still as composed as ever, simply replied, "No. My wife is busy these days with work, and it seems..."

He turned his gaze toward me, his dark eyes filled with something unreadable.

"She must be forced by her colleagues, just like Miss Reed here—pressured to drink and denied the chance to go home early."

I stiffened.

The crew erupted into laughter, oblivious to the way Evander’s words were directed to them.

Was he... calling them out?

My lips parted to argue, but then I noticed something—his tone wasn’t just teasing, he was diffidently targeting them.

And his words weren’t only directed at the crew.

They were also directed at me.

I quickly averted my gaze, pretending to reach for my water glass. My fingers gripped the cool surface tightly as I tried to ignore the way my heart had started pounding.

Damian smirked knowingly, nudging Evander. "Man, you should have just said you are jealous instead of making it sound like an official complaint."