Semua Bab Billionaire’s Virgin Ex-Wife: Bab 211 - Bab 220

At dawn, with the sky still painted in shades of pale blue and gray, Serena arrived at Alexei’s company. It was only 7 a.m., but she moved with the sharp precision of someone who had been awake for hours—her resolve unwavering.In the quiet of a sleek conference room, she signed an agreement with Alexei—her last ace in the hand she was about to play.Once it was done, she opened her laptop, logged into the secure trading platform, and sent a direct message to the Richter Group.“I have a 35% stake. I'm willing to sell.”The response came quickly. On the other end, the acquisition team at Richter Group—already knee-deep in the covert buyout of Pinturas Grande—froze.A 35% stake?Until now, they'd only managed to purchase 16%. With this additional chunk, their ownership would leap past the 51% threshold—enough to take full control of the Morales family company. It was the kind of offer that could change the tide of a battle—and they could hardly believe their luck.What they didn’t know,

Alexander sat on the sleek leather couch, the city lights from the window casting faint reflections across the polished floor. He opened his laptop with one hand, the soft click of the keyboard keys quickly filling the room as he began pulling up documents. The screen glowed coldly in the dimness of his penthouse.There had been turbulence with one of the Vanderbilt Group’s overseas branches, and it required his direct intervention. He was likely flying out within the next forty-eight hours—another transatlantic trip, another round of negotiations. Time was tight, and the pressure mounting.He worked silently, laser-focused, until his phone buzzed. Victoria's name lit up the screen.He hesitated a moment before answering.On the other end, Victoria’s voice trembled with suppressed emotion. She hesitated, trying to mask her panic with composure, but the waver in her tone betrayed her.Just that morning, she had paraded her so-called victory with pride, telling him how easily she'd conqu

Serena was wheeled quietly into the hospital ward, a ghost of herself, pale against the sterile linens.When she finally opened her eyes, all she saw was white—walls, ceiling, bedsheets—blinding and clinical, the color of silence and loss. Her lashes fluttered against the stark brightness as her mind struggled to catch up to her body.A voice cut through the stillness, flat and indifferent."You're awake. The procedure was a painless abortion—no need for hospitalization. You’re free to leave. Mrs. Vanderbilt has already settled the bill."The words hit like a hammer. Serena’s vision tunneled, her chest tightened, and for a brief moment, the world dimmed at the edges. She barely managed to remain upright.The doctor went on, unaffected."Try to rest when you get home. Eat something warm. You’ll regain strength in a few days—it won’t affect your work."Serena opened her mouth, struggling to speak, but her voice caught in her throat—raw, brittle, unusable. It felt like Alexander’s hand wa

Ava glanced at the incoming message, her eyes barely flicking away from the mountain of documents piled high on her desk. Contracts, personnel files, quarterly reports—all demanding her signature, her insight, her attention.With a muted sigh, she picked up her phone and tapped out a reply.Ava:[I might be a bit late.]A beat later, his response arrived.Alexander:[Okay.]The screen dimmed, and so did her thoughts of him. She slid the phone aside and returned to the work with a sharpened focus, determined to push through before the evening swallowed what little energy she had left.Time blurred into stillness as the pages turned under her hand, her pen gliding steadily over signatures and notes. When she finally looked up again, the sky outside her office window had deepened into a dusky charcoal. Streetlights glowed faintly against the glass. Her pulse kicked—had it really been four hours?She reached for her phone again, her fingertips cold with guilt.Ava:[Mr. Vanderbilt, where a

Ava gripped the handrail of the elevator, her knuckles pale, her legs barely steady beneath her.The mirrored walls offered her a glimpse of herself—her reflection stark under the sterile lighting. Her collar was crooked, revealing faint bruises along her neck, the aftermath of the night before. With trembling fingers, she adjusted her neckline, trying to hide the evidence, as if that could make the memory vanish too.She barely made it through the lobby. The moment she stepped into the crisp morning air, her knees buckled. Her bag slipped from her shoulder, and she collapsed onto the pavement.And just like that—something broke.She hadn’t cried when Alexander mocked her, hadn’t flinched when he tossed her aside like she meant nothing.But now, facedown on a cold sidewalk with a scraped knee and nothing left to hold onto, the tears came—hot, unrelenting, silent at first, then gasping.Footsteps approached. She glanced up, dazed.It was Diana.Dressed immaculately in a tailored cream b