His Ex-Wife Is A Billionaire (Evadne and Thaddeus) novel Chapter 677

Sheltered behind Arnold, Camille couldn't help but stifle a smile, despite the ache in her heart. Arnold's tongue was as sharp as ever – a rapier in court that jabbed at the guilty, and in life, a scalpel that cut to the bone.

"What are you babbling about? I've had no work done!" Mrs. Evert clutched her face, which was as taut as a Thanksgiving balloon, red with embarrassment and seething with guilt.

Arnold shook his head dismissively. "Getting older isn't a crime, but giving people a fright – that's just not on."

Mrs. Evert was inches away from a fit of apoplexy.

"And who might you be to Camille?" Eunice, propping her mother up, couldn't help but challenge him.

"And what am I to her."

Arnold tapped his cheek thoughtfully, turning his gaze to Camille with a look of mock seriousness. "Ms. Camille, she's asking what I am to you."

Camille looked at him, her heart pounding a wild rhythm.

Without her response, Arnold's eyes crinkled with a knowing smile. "If you're not speaking up, then I guess I'm your boyfriend by default."

"What?" Both Mrs. Evert and daughter's jaws dropped in disbelief.

How could this elegant and handsome gentleman, radiating such distinguished charm, possibly be the boyfriend of that girl?

A blush blossomed on Camille's delicate features as she bashfully lowered her gaze, unable to meet his eyes.

Arnold's eyes darkened, and without hesitation, he reached out and intertwined his fingers with hers.

"I've been watching you harass Camille, and I didn't intervene because I wanted to see how low you could stoop, how utterly you could degrade yourselves."

His eyes narrowed, sending chills down their spines.

Mrs. Evert, biting back her anger, declared, "This is an Evert family matter. It's none of your business."

"Camille is my girlfriend. You tell me if it's my business or not." Arnold's gaze was so piercing, it was hard to look him in the eye.

"Sir! Did my mother accuse her of anything untrue?"

Eunice started up again, slandering Camille. "She is the illegitimate daughter of our family, conceived by her mother's seduction of my father. Her mother tried to usurp the family but failed and gave birth to this wretch in secret! When they hit rock bottom, they came seeking refuge with us. We've been more than generous, and now that Camille has some skills, she turns on us, refusing to even sew a dress!"

Camille's eyes reddened with fury and Arnold, sensing her distress, responded with a scoff.

"So what do these accusations have to do with Camille?"

Eunice was taken aback!

"No one chooses where they come from, or their parents. But I believe if Camille had even the slightest choice, she wouldn't want anything to do with you lot."

After she took the medication, her complexion was still pale. Arnold felt a twist in his heart, seeing her so vulnerable.

"You saw it all," she said, her back to him, her proud posture slumped, her hand clenched tight over her chest.

"I come from such a place – lowly, unworthy. What does it matter if I'm a successful designer? I can never erase the stain on my life. You must be disappointed. Now that they're gone, there's no need to pretend anymore."

Before she could finish, she felt a warmth envelop her from behind. Arnold had silently approached, his eyes brimming with fierce affection, pulling her forcefully into his embrace.

She struggled at first, but only faintly.

Camille felt a yearning deep within her, a longing so intense that she couldn't deny it any longer. The embrace she was in, it was something she realized she craved more than anything.

"Who says I'm pretending?" Arnold's warm lips grazed her ear, his voice husky and almost unrecognizable from the intensity of his emotions, "I've never been this serious about anything, Camille."

A wave of delicious shivers shot through her, her breath coming in short gasps, her head spinning as if she might just melt into his arms, "I don't believe you. You're lying to me. Weren't you just laughing at me a moment ago?"

Arnold's eyes darkened with a mix of emotions, and he coaxed her in a gentle, low tone, "Don't get it wrong. I've got the words to explain."

"I'm not listening."

"But I can't just stand by. The moment I heard that nasty piece of work insulting you, I wanted to step in and set her straight," Arnold confessed, his jaw resting against the softness of her neck, a bitter ache spreading through his chest, indescribable, "But I really want to know more about you. You keep your family and your life so close to the chest, pushing me away every time I try to get close. I know it's a bit underhanded, but this was the only way I knew how to learn about you. I want to understand you, to really get you."