Chased By My Billionaire Ex-husband

Damian’s POV

"No, no, no, no!" I muttered, pacing back and forth in my room, my eyes glued to the article on my phone. The headline screamed louder than my panicked thoughts. There it was— a picture of me and Claire with warm, radiating smile as we were looking at each other.

But what they didn’t know was that we were taking about cute costumes for Little Eliam.

Damn it! How did this even happen? Claire was like a younger sister to me. A younger sister! She was the wife of my best buddy, Evander— Mr. Tyrant himself—and here I was, caught in a scandal that made it look like I was plotting to steal her away.

I ran my hands through my hair, practically pulling it out. How was I supposed to explain this to Evander? That bull-headed man would snap my neck before I could even get a word out of my mouth.

"That jealous bull!" I groaned, slumping onto the couch. "He is going to kill me. No, wait... he has probably already planned it!"

I shot up, paranoia kicking in at full speed. My eyes darted to the window. What if he hired a sniper? The thought alone made my knees wobble.

"Crap, crap, crap!" I whispered, rushing to lock all the doors and windows. I even pulled the curtains shut for extra protection. Just in case.

Feeling a little safer, I grabbed a blanket and wrapped myself up like a burrito. If he can’t see me, he can’t kill me, I thought, my logic clearly teetering on the edge of madness.

But then a horrifying realization hit me. "What if he hired someone to come inside?" I gasped, throwing the blanket off me and sprinting to double-check the locks. "Damn it, Evander! I am too young and handsome to die like this."

I caught my reflection in the glass of the window and froze. My eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What if... he hired a sharp-shooter?" My heart practically leaped out of my chest as I dove to the floor, rolling away from the window.

"You are losing it, Damian," I whispered to myself, crawling army-style across the floor toward the couch. "Evander is your best friend. He wouldn’t... Oh, who am I kidding? Of course, he would! He is probably reading this article right now, sharpening his knives and plotting my demise."

The thought sent a shiver down my spine. I need an escape plan.

I peeked out from behind the couch, only to freeze again. Was that... a shadow moving outside? "Shit!" I yelped, diving back under the blanket. "This is it! I am done for!"

Suddenly, my phone buzzed, making me jump a foot in the air. I scrambled to grab it, fumbling like a complete idiot before finally answering.

"Hello?" I whispered because clearly whispering made me invisible.

"Damian, what are you doing?" Caspian’s voice rang out on the other end, calm but slightly amused.

"Oh, you know," I said, trying to sound casual as I peeked out from under the blanket. "Just doing some yoga."

"Yoga?" He repeated, his tone dripping with disbelief.

"Yes, yoga!" I said, standing up and attempting a tree pose for absolutely no reason. "It’s great for calming the nerves, which I definitely don’t have right now. Nope. Totally calm."

"Right..." Caspian said, clearly unconvinced as I could tell that he was holding back his laughter. "Listen, Damian. Evander is not going to kill you."

"You sure about that?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Because I am about two seconds away from digging my own grave!"

Caspain sighed as he finally couldn’t control his laughter. "Well... this was all I could to calm you down as your assistant just called me, telling me all the weird things you had been doing in your room."

"Wh... What?" I glared at my assistant, who was sitting on the couch and munching on something. That bastard! He was looking at me go crazy while eating calmly.

"Calm down and just beg for your life!" Caspian suggested. "You know right, how forgiving he is?"

I let out a dry laugh. "You mean Evander Kensington? The guy who once threatened a waiter for serving Claire the wrong drink and destroyed half a dozen families who harmed his wife? Yeah, sure, he will understand. I will just leave my will on the coffee table for when he doesn’t."

"Why not just announce that you are gay and are in a relationship with me?" Caspian suggested as he laughed like a maniac.

I shot my assistant a deadly look as I gritted my teeth. "Dude, I respect your sexuality, but let me remind you— I don’t want to sleep with my best friend. I have seen you eat pizza with ketchup, and frankly, that’s a dealbreaker."

Caspian laughed even harder. I could imagine clutching his stomach. "Oh, come on! It’s a great idea, no? Just imagine Evander’s face when he hears it. Priceless!"

"You mean the face he will make while burying me six feet under?" I retorted, rolling my eyes. Caspian was impossible.

Now, here’s the thing about Caspian. He was bisexual and a proud player, always jumping from one prey to the next. But a few years ago, he claimed he had found "the one true love." He was so giddy about introducing this mystery person to me. Then, poof— radio silence. No introductions, no updates. Whenever I asked, he’d just wave me off like a mosquito, and since then, he had dated no one!

"So," I said, narrowing my eyes, "are you going to tell me why you ghosted your soulmate, or is that classified information?"

Caspian shrugged dramatically. "Some mysteries are best left unsolved, Damian."

"Right. You are just dying to keep me curious," I muttered.

"Exactly!" he said, flashing me a grin. "But seriously, my fake relationship idea is genius. Think about it—Evan would lose his mind."

"He’d lose my mind—right out of my skull—with his bare hands," I snapped, grabbing a cushion near me as I rolled my eyes.