Chased By My Billionaire Ex-husband

"Why can’t I carry you?" Claire asked with a puzzled look on her face. "Am I not good to you?"

"No, Mommy is really good to me," Eliam said with a smile on his face.

"Then? Why can’t I?" Claire raised her brows.

"Because!" Eliam pouted. "Mommy gets tired, and Daddy said I have to protect Mommy. So, no carrying!"

Evander chuckled at Eliam’s determined tone, folding his arms as he watched the exchange between his loved ones. "Smart boy," he said, ruffling Eliam’s hair. "He knows his responsibilities."

Claire narrowed her eyes at Evander. "Is this another one of your lessons?"

"Of course," Evander said smoothly, his expression smug. "It’s my job to teach him how to take care of you. After all, you are precious to both of us."

Claire’s cheeks flushed slightly, and she quickly averted her gaze. "You are impossible," she muttered, standing up straight.

Evander leaned in slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. "And yet, you are still here."

Claire rolled her eyes again, muttering under her breath, "Unbelievable." He is really getting ahead of himself. Does he really think I want to be around him all the time? She thought as she walked beside him closely.

As they continued walking, Eliam giggled softly, his small hand slipping into Claire’s. She glanced down at him, her heart warming at his innocent smile.

"Mommy, don’t worry," Eliam said earnestly. "I will always protect you."

Claire smiled, her earlier frustration melting away as she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "I know you will, my little protector."

Evander watched the two of them, his expression softening just a bit. "Let’s go home," he said, his voice steady.

The family of three went home. Claire busied herself in the kitchen, preparing a light meal while Evander played with Eliam, his deep laughter echoing through the space.

When the meal was ready, Claire joined them at the table, placing the steaming bowls in front of each of them.

"So, are you going to attend the party?" Evander asked casually, sipping his soup, though his eyes flickered with interest.

Claire shrugged, her expression neutral. "I don’t have much of a choice. Sissy might have gone on my behalf, but she has a date tonight."

Evander nearly choked on his soup. "A date?" he repeated, his eyes wide with surprise. "She is already dating here?"

Claire chuckled, amused by his reaction. "She has always been like that— forward and confident. That’s just who she is."

Evander leaned back in his chair, processing the information. After a moment, his curiosity got the better of him. "So... did you go on dates too?" he asked, his voice dropping slightly, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

The question hung in the air, and Evander immediately regretted asking it. He hadn’t intended to pry, and now he wasn’t sure he could handle the answer.

"No," Claire replied simply, her tone flat but laced with a hint of bitterness. "I never dated anyone. Having you was more than enough. After being done with you, I didn’t want anyone else in my life."

Evander froze, her words hitting him harder than he expected. He had hoped for a different kind of answer—something lighter, something that wouldn’t twist the knife of guilt in his chest.

"Oh," was all he managed to say, his voice subdued. He stared down at his soup, stirring it absently. The air between them grew heavy, the weight of unspoken emotions settling over the room.

Claire noticed his silence but chose not to address it. Instead, she turned her attention to Eliam, who was happily munching on his food, oblivious to the tension.

"Eliam, slow down," she said gently, reaching out to wipe the corner of his mouth with a napkin.

Evander watched the interaction, his chest tightening. He wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come.

~ ~ ~ ~

As the evening approached, Claire stood in front of the mirror, fixing her earrings and checking her makeup. Evander leaned against the doorframe, watching her with a worried expression that he didn’t bother hiding.

"Claire, are you sure you don’t want someone to go with you?" he asked, his voice laced with unease. "I can send someone with you."

Claire sighed, adjusting her dress before turning to face him. "Who could I possibly take to escort me there, Evander?" she replied. "I am just a newbie in this industry. Taking a high-profile person with me would only stir up a scandal, and that’s the last thing I need right now."

Evander frowned but didn’t argue. "Fine, but I am still worried about you," he said, his tone softening. "I don’t know why, but I can’t shake this bad feeling."

Claire tilted her head, her brows knitting together. "Why are you being so cautious today? You sound overly concerned."

Evander didn’t respond immediately; his gaze fixed on her as if searching for the right words when Claire spoke up. "It’s not like I haven’t attended these parties before," she continued, trying to keep her tone light. "I have been to plenty, even alone, and nothing has ever happened."

"That’s exactly what bothers me," Evander muttered, more to himself than to her.

Claire arched a brow, intrigued by his sudden protectiveness. "Are you sure you are not just overthinking things?" she teased, though there was a trace of genuine curiosity in her voice.

Evander crossed the room and stood in front of her, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders. "Maybe I am," he admitted. "But I can’t help it. I don’t know if it’s this party or something else, but I feel like... something is going to happen. Something that might affect us."

Claire stared at him, her heart skipping a beat at the seriousness in his tone. She wasn’t used to seeing him like this— so vulnerable and anxious. "Evander..." she began, but he interrupted her.

"Just promise me you will be careful," he said, his grip on her shoulders tightening slightly. "If anything feels off, call me. I don’t care where I am or what I am doing—I will come to you."

For a moment, Claire was at a loss for words. She nodded slowly, her gaze locked with his. "I promise," she said softly.

Evander let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and stepped back, his hand lingering for a moment before he let it fall. "Good. Now go and make an impression," he said, forcing a small smile.

Claire returned the smile, though her mind lingered on his words as she picked up her bag and headed for the door. She couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight would be different. And for the first time, she hoped Evander’s instincts were wrong.

Evander stood there, watching Claire as she gracefully walked toward the car. Her evening gown clung to her body perfectly, the soft fabric shimmering under the porch lights. She looked breathtaking, so stunning that Evander found himself gritting his teeth. He didn’t want her to leave, and more importantly, he didn’t want anyone else to see her like this.

His heart twisted in a way he couldn’t explain. It wasn’t just jealousy or possessiveness— it was something deeper, something that made him feel as though letting her walk out of his sight was a mistake.

With a frustrated groan, he turned away, running a hand through his hair. "Damn it," he muttered under his breath. "I had a meeting." He glanced at his phone, remembering how he had instructed Zaniel to cancel it earlier but he still had that.

"What the hell am I doing? I told him to cancel the damn meeting, and here I am thinking about attending a party!" he growled, pacing back and forth as he had never liked partying. He liked being alone more than being surrounded by a lot of people.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore and decided to do something. Evander clenched his fists and grabbed his phone. His thumb hovered over the screen before he opened a message to Damian.

[Take care of Claire. If anything happens, I will kill you.]

He hit send button, his jaw tightening as he waited for a response. Within seconds, Damian replied with a thumbs-up emoji, making Evander roll his eyes.

"What an idiot," Evander muttered, shoving his phone into his pocket. He grabbed his jacket and went to Eliam.

"I will just check on her when the meeting is over," he said to himself, though he knew that wasn’t entirely right for him to do. But for some reasons something about tonight didn’t sit right with him, and he wasn’t about to ignore his instincts.

Evander stopped outside Eliam’s room, his hand resting on the doorframe as he turned to the nanny. His expression, though calm, held a sternness in them.

"What is Eliam doing?" he asked, his tone low but firm.

The nanny replied in a hushed tone, "Young Master is sleeping, sir."

"Good," Evander said, his voice firm again. "Take care of him. Make sure he is comfortable and doesn’t cry. If he wakes up, soothe him immediately."

"Yes, Master," the nanny replied with a quick nod, her voice tinged with nervousness.

Evander lingered for a second longer, his eyes drifting to the closed door. He seemed reluctant to leave but finally stepped back. "If anything happens, call me right away. Understood?"

"Understood, sir," the nanny assured him.

With a final glance at the door, Evander turned and walked down the hallway. Adjusting his tie, he refocused his mind. The uneasiness he felt earlier still lingered in the pit of his stomach, but he pushed it aside.