His Ex-Wife Is A Billionaire (Evadne and Thaddeus) novel Chapter 813

Thaddeus felt a piercing pain in his chest, clutching it as spasms shot through him. The burly man stood there, his tough exterior melting into a figure of utter dismay, a sight so heart-wrenching it could bring a tear to the eye.

Elvis bolted upright, his hand shooting out to grab Thaddeus' collar, his clear-cut eyes wide with frightening intensity.

"What the hell did you do to my little sis? Did you force her into some kinky stuff last night?"

"I didn't."

"Didn't? Then why is she covered in bruises? Damn it, even if you're into that scene, you're supposed to be the one taking the hits!"

Elvis' knuckles turned white with rage, buttons flying off Thaddeus' shirt as he nearly came nose to nose with him. "Evadne's been pampered and spoiled by us, her brothers, her whole life—she's delicate! And ever since she got mixed up with you, one bad thing after another. You had the nerve to hurt her even in bed? You strut around like some kind of saint, but turn into a beast the moment the lights are off! If you love her like you claim, you should have been thinking about her, not just your own damn pleasure!"

It was clear that Elvis was furiously livid.

Only Evadne could bring him to this state—cursing and losing all composure.

"Elvis." murmured Evadne, her voice groggy with fever as she struggled to open her eyes.

"I'm here, I'm here! I'm here!"

Elvis shoved Thad, causing him to stagger, and then knelt by the bed, wiping the sweat from her brow with a trembling hand. "You're burning up! I could fry an egg on your forehead!"

"You're so loud."

With the last of her strength, Evadne flicked Elvis' forehead, "Patients need rest, you're intentionally letting me suffer."

Just then, Alva rushed in with fever-reducing medicine and a glass of water, pressing a digital thermometer to Mrs. Abernathy's forehead.

Beep—

"Lord Almighty! This fever could kill cancer cells, and she's still conscious?"

Alva, feeling sorry for Mrs. Abernathy, glared at Thaddeus and gave him a shove, pushing him like a wobbly statue, "Sir, you're clueless! With a fever like this, medicine won't cut it. Get her to the hospital before she's burnt to a crisp!"

Thaddeus was filled with regret.

Driven by his possessive desires, he had hurt the one he loved most.

Thaddeus and Alva helped Evadne change, while Elvis turned his back in a huff, his broad shoulders shaking with anger.

Right then, Evadne seemed like a pliant little girl being dressed by others. Alva slipped a coat over her frail shoulders, and Thaddeus knelt to help her into her shoes.

Just as he was about to lift her, Elvis aggressively pushed him aside, not letting him touch her again.

"Evadne, I'll carry you," Elvis said, squatting down with his back to her.

"Elvis, let me. I don't want to burden you," Thaddeus said, his intentions pure.

"You get lost."

Thaddeus pressed his dry lips together, holding back a retort.

"When Evadne was sick as a kid, it was us, her brothers, who carried her to the hospital. When she couldn't sleep at night, we were the ones who comforted her," Elvis said as he hoisted his sister onto his back, his eyes red-rimmed. "When she was just a little girl and upset, she used to ride on my neck. Thaddeus, you say you love her, you spoil her, but I think you're far from enough. I'm starting to have doubts about leaving Evadne in your hands."