All Chapters of Billionaire’s Virgin Ex-Wife: Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

Ava reached for the car door handle but hesitated, her fingers lingering against the cool metal. With a deep breath, she sank back into her seat, turning to Alexander. "Mr. Vanderbilt, if Miss Victoria Laurent comes after me again… can I still count on you for help?"Her voice was steady, but there was an unmistakable weight behind her words. She wasn’t asking lightly. The Morales family couldn’t compete with the power and influence of the Laurents, let alone the Vanderbilts. Victoria was his girlfriend, and with his support, she could become even more ruthless.Alexander’s hands rested lightly on the steering wheel, his gaze unreadable. A silence stretched between them before he finally spoke. "Why do you think I would take your side?"Ava met his stare, determined. "It’s not about taking sides. It’s about doing what’s right. At least I never provoked Miss Laurent. She’s the one who sees me as a rival—even though, between you and me, Mr. Vanderbilt, there’s nothing going on."The mome

The nurse hesitated for a moment but then entered Alfonso’s hospital room, pushing the small stainless steel tray in front of her. The overhead fluorescent lights cast a sterile glow over the stark white walls, and the faint scent of antiseptic filled the air.The two bodyguards stationed outside barely spared her a glance. She was the same nurse who had been tending to Alfonso’s care for days, her presence routine and unremarkable.Inside, Alfonso lay motionless on the hospital bed, his breathing slow and mechanical. His face was gaunt, his skin sallow under the artificial lighting. The machines beside him hummed a rhythmic yet fragile tune, a constant reminder of his precarious condition.With practiced hands, the nurse reached for the syringe, carefully drawing the medication into it, preparing to inject it into the IV bag.But just as she brought the needle close to the drip chamber, Alfonso’s eyes shot open—wide and filled with sudden panic. His body convulsed, his chest heaving

Alexander finished his breakfast at a leisurely pace before heading straight to the Vanderbilt Group. The crisp morning air held a slight chill, though it did little to cool the storm brewing beneath his composed exterior.As he arrived at the entrance of the sleek, glass-fronted headquarters, a familiar figure stood waiting. Ava.She looked exhausted—her usually bright eyes dulled with fatigue, the shadows beneath them betraying a sleepless night. The soft fabric of her blouse was slightly wrinkled, her posture tense with urgency."Alexander, about Rex..." Her voice was hoarse, carrying the weight of concern.He didn’t break stride, his polished dress shoes tapping against the marble floor as he passed her without a glance. "I was drunk last night and made a mistake," he said coolly. "Rex wasn’t with me."Liar.Ava remained frozen in place, watching his retreating back. If she hadn’t seen Rex at Le Châteauesque Manor with her own eyes, she might have believed him.Why on earth would

Bridgitte’s face drained of all color, as if she’d just been slapped in front of a crowd. Her lips parted in disbelief. “Mr. Vanderbilt…”But Alexander didn’t spare her a glance. His cold eyes swept over the rest of the room instead, voice firm and devoid of emotion. “Consider this a warning.”His tone cut through the air like a blade. Not once did he acknowledge Bridgitte’s presence or feelings, making her humiliation all the more bitter.Trying to salvage her pride, Bridgitte stammered, “I—I’m Raphael’s girlfriend. Things have been going really well between us lately, so if you could just—”Her words trailed off as Alexander finally looked at her—his gaze so cold, so piercing, that she froze mid-sentence. In that moment, Bridgitte’s resentment toward Ava deepened, festering quietly beneath her skin.Without another word, Alexander turned on his heel and left, his tailored coat fluttering behind him.Jonathan remained, stepping forward with his usual composed demeanor. He looked ov

Ava stepped out of the hospital, her emotions wound tight like a storm that had yet to pass. Her hands trembled as she held onto her purse, and she knew—there was no way she could drive like this. So, she walked. No destination in mind, no plan. Just walked.The midday sun beat down relentlessly, baking the pavement beneath her feet. Her vision blurred, not from the heat, but from the tears that slipped down her cheeks, uninvited and unchecked. She didn’t bother to stop them. Instead, she drifted toward a nearby bench tucked beneath a skeletal tree that offered little shade. She sank onto it, clutching her bag in her lap as though it were the only thing holding her together.With shaky fingers, she tried wiping the tears away, but they kept coming. Her small frame hunched forward as if trying to shrink away from the world. The sun bore down on her mercilessly, its rays highlighting every fragile line of emotion on her face. She looked heartbreakingly vulnerable—an open wound in the mi