Chased By My Billionaire Ex-husband

Diana’s POV

"Damn it!" I hissed under my breath, slamming my champagne glass onto the table with force The crystal wobbled precariously, the liquid threatening to spill over the rim. My chest heaved with frustration as I clenched my fists, trying to calm the storm brewing inside me.

"I was too desperate," I muttered angrily. "I looked like an idiot in front of her!"

The image of Claire’s smug, composed face flashed in my mind, and it made my blood boil. She had seen right through me— her defiance was like a slap to my face. I had planned everything so meticulously, yet my impatience had nearly jeopardized it all.

I took a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. The party buzzed on around me, oblivious to the seething fury beneath my carefully crafted facade. No one could suspect me, and I intended to keep it that way.

"She thinks she has won and escaped just because she didn’t take the drink?" I whispered to myself, a cruel smile curling my lips. "Let her bask in her little victory. It won’t last long."

My plan wasn’t something I could execute hastily. It required precision, patience, and, most importantly, a clean alibi. That’s why I had made my approach so public, ensuring everyone saw me offering Claire a harmless drink. The glass I handed her had nothing in it, and I made sure to take a sip myself to remove any doubt.

But the real brilliance of my scheme wasn’t in that gesture— it was in what would happen later. By the time the drug took effect, I would be nowhere near her. I would be mingling with the crowd, laughing and chatting like the picture of innocence.

"She will be the one to fall," I thought, my smile growing colder. "And when she does, no one will point their finger at me."

Still, my earlier desperation gnawed at me. I had let my emotions get the better of me when I approached her. Instead of playing it cool, I had pushed too hard, too fast.

"Focus, Diana," I told myself sternly. "It’s not over yet."

"Boss," a waiter approached me with a tray of starters, his voice low and measured. "Should I start?"

I glanced at him as my gaze was sharp. "Go ahead," I said curtly, my tone leaving no room for hesitation. "Make sure she takes it, and inform our client once it’s done. Let him have his fun tonight. And remind him— if he wants, he can take all the videos he desires. I don’t care as long as his desires are fulfilled. And... We must have that video too."

"Understood," the waiter replied. His voice was calm, but the way he adjusted his mask hinted that he was a bit nervous. He couldn’t afford to slip up tonight. His identity had to remain hidden, just like mine.

I watched as he walked away, blending into the crowd seamlessly, the tray in his hand appearing as ordinary as the rest of the party’s offerings. Yet I knew that one of those starters held the key to my revenge.

I leaned back into my chair, taking a deep breath to steady myself. My eyes scanned the room, lingering on Claire for a brief moment. She stood near the buffet, her every move radiating an irritating aura of confidence and grace. It made me sick to my stomach.

"This time, she won’t walk away untouched." I muttered under my breath, my nails digging into the armrest.

I was still, and caution was my priority. If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t have had to tread so carefully. But this was Claire, and with Evander having her back like an impenetrable fortress, one wrong move could mean disaster.

I shifted my gaze, letting it wander casually over the crowd as my cell phone buzzed softly in my clutch. I pulled it out, I checked the screen, and saw a message from the client: "All set?"

I typed back quickly, "In progress. Be patient. She will be yours soon."

Sliding the phone back into my bag, I took another sip of champagne, the bubbles fizzing on my tongue. I needed to act natural just as I did in the past.

To be honest, it wasn’t my first time orchestrating something like this. I had done it with plenty of rookie actresses before. They never dared to speak out— not when the risk of scandal could obliterate their fledgling careers. Their silence made it easy and almost my routine to earn easy money.

But this time, things were different. Claire wasn’t some desperate, wide-eyed beginner looking for her first break. She was already gaining recognition, which made her a more enticing target— and a bigger challenge.

This wasn’t just about revenge; it was also about opportunity. My client for tonight wasn’t just anyone. He was one of the biggest producers in the industry, a man whose name alone could greenlight a film and put anyone involved to stardom.

For years, I had wanted to work with him, but the price had always been too high. To get his favor, I had been forced to meet his expectations that included countless nights in his bed. At first, I played along, convincing myself it was a necessary step toward success. But eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore. The way he looked at me, the way he treated me—it was degrading, even for someone like me who understood the rules of this game.

When I reached my limit, I realized I needed a way out. That’s when the idea struck me: if I couldn’t keep him satisfied, I had to find someone who could. Someone who could take the burden off me while keeping him happy and our professional relationship intact.

I contacted him today after Claire showed an all-cocky look to me and with Claire’s picture, my heart racing as I hit "send." It was a gamble, but I was confident he wouldn’t resist. Claire had that innocent, untouchable beauty that men like him found irresistible.