Chased By My Billionaire Ex-husband

Evander’s POV

After finishing my conversation with Claire, I retreated to my study, my mind clouded with thoughts. The day had been emotionally draining, but there was one person I owed a debt of gratitude to—my father.

He had never been present for me growing up, and for the longest time, I carried resentment toward him. Yet, when I reached out for his help during one of the darkest periods of my life, he didn’t hesitate. His unwavering support left me with a sense of gratitude I hadn’t expected. Perhaps, after all these years, there was still a bond that could be salvaged.

A Week Ago

"Boss, what do you think we should do about your mother?" Zaniel asked, his tone laced with concern. "It’s not like we can tackle this situation on our own. Her reach is... significant."

I leaned back in my chair, running a hand through my hair. "I understand," I said, my voice cold and resolute. "The situation is dire, but if we are going to take her down, we need to make sure there is no chance for a comeback. I don’t want her to have any influence left, even if we win the case."

Zaniel nodded, his expression serious. "So, what’s the plan, boss?"

I clenched my fists, the thought of Gloria’s manipulation igniting a fire of determination within me. "We have to cut her off completely. Strip her of every advantage. She has lived her life on the backs of others, including mine. This will end now."

"But how?" Zaniel pressed, his brows furrowing.

A grim smile tugged at my lips. "I am going to enlist the help of someone who knows how to dismantle an empire like hers—my father. He may not have been there for me, but he is a ruthless strategist when it comes to matters like this. Gloria won’t see it coming."

"However, boss..." Zaniel spoke cautiously, his tone low and hesitant. "Why would he help you?" He paused for a moment, as if debating whether to continue, then added, "He has never involved himself in the Kensington family’s affairs after he remarried his love. He has his own family now, his kids... and his new priorities."

I let out a bitter chuckle, leaning forward as I rested my hand on the table. "I know, Zaniel. Trust me, I have thought about that," I replied, my voice cold but firm. "But even if he has moved on, there is something he can’t ignore—his legacy. He still owns properties and assets that are rightfully his. If I let Gloria continue with her tranny, she might sink her claws into what belongs to him, too. She is shameless enough to try."

Zaniel nodded slowly, but his expression remained doubtful. "That makes sense, boss. But... do you think he will actually care? I mean, he has been distant for so long. Why now?"

I clenched my fists, the frustration bubbling under the surface. "Because Gloria is a threat to more than just me. She is a threat to his reputation and his standing. If she gets any piece of what he built, it will tarnish everything he has worked for. If I have to cut her off completely, I need his help. Cornering her myself won’t be enough. He has the power to crush her, and I am going to make sure he uses it."

Zaniel tilted his head, considering my words. "And you think he will agree to this? Just like that?"

A grim determination settled over me. "He might not have been there for me, but he is a man who values control above all else. If I present this the right way, he won’t see it as helping me—he will see it as protecting his empire. And that, Zaniel, is something he won’t ignore."

For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of the conversation pressing down on both of us. Finally, Zaniel gave a small nod. "If anyone can convince him, it’s you, boss. Just... be careful. You know how unpredictable he can be."

I smirked faintly. "Unpredictable or not, he is still my father. And for once, I am going to make sure he fights on my side."

Later that day, I made my way to my father’s house. Unlike the grandeur of Gloria’s mansion or the sprawling estate I owned, his home was modest—a small, two-story house tucked away on a quiet street. But the moment I stepped inside, it felt different. The air was warm, and the atmosphere was inviting. For the first time in a long while, I felt a strange sense of peace.

It felt like... home.

I was lost in the feeling when the sound of footsteps broke my thoughts. The door creaked open, and a young man appeared. He looked to be in his barely twenties, with sharp features and a lively energy about him. His resemblance to me was uncanny, and for a moment, I froze, trying to make sense of it.

"Excuse me, but who are you?" He asked, his voice light but curious, his expression neither hostile nor welcoming.

Something about him caught me off guard. His youth, his fresh energy—it was magnetic. An unfamiliar protectiveness stirred within me, though I couldn’t place why.

"Um... I am here to meet Professor Kensington," I said, keeping my tone firm as usual, though my mind was racing.

The young man’s eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. "Professor Kensington? Oh, you mean Dad."

Dad. The word hit me harder than I expected, even though I knew my father had started another family. Hearing it aloud from someone else felt strange.

"Yes," I replied, keeping my expression neutral. "Is he home?"

The young man hesitated for a moment before stepping aside to let me in. "He is in his study. I will let him know you are here. You can wait in the living room."

He said as he let me in the house when he turned toward me and asked. "But can you tell me who you are first?"

We both stopped as I looked at him. I had a strange urge to hug him, but I controlled myself. Was this what Elijah felt for me too? I thought and sighed. "Kindly tell him that Evander is here to meet him." I said as he nodded, and we continued to walk inside.

The house was small, so we reached the living room early.

I stepped inside and looked around. The house wasn’t extravagant, but every corner seemed to hold life and warmth. Photographs lined the walls—some of my father, others of people I didn’t recognize, including this young man. A pang of something unrecognizable passed through me.

"Wait here," he said, disappearing down the hallway.

As I sat on the worn but comfortable couch, I found myself wondering what it was like to grow up in a place like this. It wasn’t just a house—it was a home, something I had never truly experienced.

I was still sitting in the living room when a young girl burst through the door, her backpack slung over her shoulder.

"Dad! Mom! I am back! Bring me something to eat; I am so hun—" she started but stopped abruptly when her wide, curious eyes landed on me.

Her expression quickly shifted into a mix of excitement and confusion. "OMG! Brother! How did you become so handsome overnight?" she exclaimed, dropping her backpack onto the couch. She darted toward me before I could even react.

"Look at you! You have gained so many muscles in just a few days! And where did you get that suit? Don’t tell me you stole it from Dad’s wardrobe!" She rambled on, her words spilling out in a rapid stream. Before I could correct her, she reached out, mussing my neatly combed hair with both hands.

"What the—" I muttered, stunned by her boldness as she continued her attack.

"Neat hair doesn’t suit you! You look way too stiff like this!" she added, clicking her tongue in mock disapproval as she leaned closer.

"Eliza, what the hell are you doing?!" The young man from earlier yelled, rushing back into the room with my father. His face was flushed with embarrassment and irritation.

The girl—Eliza, I now knew— let out a startled shriek and stumbled backward, nearly tripping over her own feet as she landed on the floor. Her wide-eyed stare darted between me and her brother.

"Wait... If you are not my brother, then who are you?!" She asked, her voice cracking with both confusion and mortification.

I straightened my suit jacket and ran a hand through my now-messy hair, trying to compose myself. "I am Evander," I said calmly, glancing at my father, who was watching the scene with thinly veiled amusement. "I am here to speak with Professor Kensington."

Eliza’s face turned beet red as realization dawned on her. "Oh no," she whispered, her hands flying up to cover her face. "You are the guest? And I just—"

"Yes," I interrupted, a small smirk tugging at my lips despite myself. "You did."

My father finally stepped forward, his voice warm as he addressed her. "Eliza, calm down. This is Evander, my... son."

Her hands dropped as she gawked at me. "Son? Wait, you are my brother?! Like... half-brother?"

"Yes, I suppose I am," I replied, watching as a mix of awe and embarrassment flitted across her features.

"Well, this is awkward," she muttered, glancing at the young man, who simply sighed and shook his head.

"Typical Eliza," he muttered under his breath. "Always diving headfirst without thinking."

Despite the chaos, I couldn’t help but feel a strange warmth bloom in my chest. For all their quirks and impulsiveness, this was a family—a real family. Something I had always longed for but never truly had.

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The next Chapter will be corrected by the evening.