My Coldhearted Ex demands a Remarriage
Chapter 253

Beverly turned toward the voice and saw an elegant woman in sunglasses.

Her outfit, paired with a designer bag worth millions, radiated wealth.

Before Beverly could process who she was, the receptionist hurried forward with a respectful nod.

“Ms.

Sandra, the CEO is in his office.

You can take the private elevator directly upstairs.”

The woman—Sandra Nash—removed her sunglasses, her sharp eyes landing on Beverly.

A flicker of recognition crossed her face.

“Oh, I know you.

You’re Elizabeth’s makeup artist.

Beverly had appeared in some of the candid photos of Elizabeth.

Beverly shrank back instinctively, clutching her shirt as if it might shield her from Sandra’s scrutiny.

She stayed silent, unsure how to respond.

The receptionist piped up to explain, “Ms.

Sandra, this young lady says her friend is a friend of Mr.

James and that her friend is in danger.

She came here asking for his help.”

Elizabeth in danger? Sandra’s brows furrowed.

The news about Elizabeth trending online had only just begun, yet it was possible that Asher’s obsessive fans might already have made a move.

Or perhaps Elva had orchestrated something? The idea pleased her.

If those crazed fans ruined Elizabeth’s face, she’d be forced out of the entertainment industry for good.

Feigning impatience, Sandra scoffed, “Look at her.

Does she seem like someone whose friend would know Elijah? You’re letting just anyone in now? If you keep this up, Elijah might as well quit being CEO and become a superhero instead!”

“Yes, Ms.

Sandra.

I’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again.

I’ll have her leave immediately.” The receptionist flushed with embarrassment.

At that moment, the elevator doors opened.

Camille emerged, followed by a girl.

Camille was ranting, “I told you not to apply here, but you wouldn’t listen! The CEO’s crazy, so how could his staff be normal? Did you hear what HR said? If you could meet those requirements, you wouldn’t need to be an intern—you’d be running your own company!”

Camille looked up, noticing Sandra berating the receptionist, with Beverly standing awkwardly nearby.

Her sharp heels clicked as she walked over.

Camille smirked.

“A mistress acting like she owns the place? Hilarious, isn’t it?”

Camille’s expression turned colder.

“The last I checked, Elijah has a wife, a mother, and a grandmother.

When did it become your place to give orders?”

Sandra stiffened as Camille’s face registered.

Worried Camille might give away Elizabeth’s identity, Sandra turned to the receptionist.

“What are you waiting for? Call security and get her out of here!”

“I’ll handle it right away.” The receptionist signaled to security.

Sandra, feeling triumphant, put her sunglasses back on.

“This better not repeat itself,” she said as she walked with exaggerated grace towards the elevator.

Security arrived quickly, but the receptionist, taking in the status of Camille and her company, knew she had to tread carefully.

She turned to Camille courteously.

“Miss, please don’t make things harder for us employees.

Finding a job isn’t easy these days.”

She then turned to Beverly.

“If your friend is really in danger, it’s best to contact the police quickly.”

“Sorry for the trouble,” Beverly said dejectedly, then turned to Camille.

“Thank you for standing up for me.”

Camille studied Beverly, recognition dawning on her.

“Wait—you’re Elizabeth’s makeup artist! What are you doing here?”

Beverly looked up at Camille, her eyes lighting up as she recognized her.

“Ms.

Nixon?”

Finally, someone who could help!

She didn’t know Camille’s name, but she’d heard Asher mention she was from the Nixon family.

Thinking of the power the Nixon family held, Beverly latched onto the hope.

“Ms.

Nixon, please! You have to help.

It’s Elizabeth.”

Beverly’s gaze darted between the security and the receptionist, then focused on Camille again.

“Can we discuss this outside?”

Camille followed her outside without objection, her forehead creasing with worry.

“Elizabeth’s been kidnapped,” Beverly informed Camille once they were outside.

Camille’s eyes widened.

“What?”

The younger girl who had been with Camille earlier spoke up.

“Camille, you go ahead.

I’ll head home on my own.”

She gave Beverly a quick, reassuring glance.

“Don’t worry—I won’t say a word.”

After sending the girl on her way, Camille motioned for Beverly to get into her car.

“We’ll talk more on the way.

Tell me everything.”

Beverly quickly explained everything, her voice trembling with urgency.

Camille listened intently, her face growing more serious with every word.

At Norris Group.

In the CEO’s office, a group of men lounged on the leather sofas, discussing their plans for the evening.

“How about we hit Oasis Club tonight?” one suggested.

Another laughed.

“You’re brave to go there after what happened the other day! Acting indifferent after robbing the girl of her virginity? That’s cold.

Didn’t she come to the club to take you away yesterday?”

Robbing the girl of her virginity… Acting indifferent…

Though the men weren’t talking about him, their words struck a nerve with Elijah.

A shadow crossed his face as he sat silently at his desk.

Elijah’s face darkened, and he pulled a cigarette from his pack.

His voice was icy.

“You just signed a major deal, and you’re already planning parties? Seems like you don’t care about this contract.”

The group froze, their laughter dying instantly.

One of them stammered, “Mr.

Norris, it’s just… we thought we could balance work with a little relaxation…”

Elijah lit his cigarette with a gold lighter encrusted with diamonds—a statement of his wealth and power.

He tossed the lighter onto the coffee table, where it landed with a thud.

His voice was calm but menacing.

“Balance work? Go do the preliminary research today and send the presentation to Oliver by tomorrow.

Or don’t bother showing up again.”

The men scrambled to gather their things, stammering apologies.

“Understood, Mr.

Norris! We’ll get to work immediately!”

Elijah stood abruptly, his booted foot kicking over the coffee table.

The sharp sound echoed through the office as the men bolted for the door.