Semua Bab Billionaire’s Virgin Ex-Wife: Bab 261 - Bab 270

“I’ll make it up to you,” Alexander murmured, his lashes trembling as he pushed open the car door beside him. “Go home. Get some proper rest tonight. If there’s ever something you can’t handle, come talk to me.”Serena was caught off guard. She had braced herself for him to explode, to tear into her with a rage that would leave her in pieces. Instead, she saw a fragile softness in his eyes, something almost foreign to her.She stepped out of the car with hesitant movements, but before she could fully straighten up, Alexander’s arms circled her waist, pulling her back against him. His head dropped to her shoulder, heavy and warm, the scent of his cologne mixing with the cool night air.His voice, thick and edged with a pleading note, brushed against her ear. “Stay away from those people. I’ll make it worth your while.”“Mr. Vanderbilt,” Serena managed, trying to keep her voice steady, “I have nothing to do with them.”His forehead pressed more firmly into her shoulder, as if he needed t

Whatever. I’ll win her back sooner or later, Alexander thought with arrogant certainty, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.He flicked his gaze toward the stack of documents on his desk, his voice sharp and commanding. “From now on, don’t even think about contacting her.”Liam stood there awkwardly, lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. The weight of Alexander’s tone pinned him in place. A beat later, he gave a stiff nod and backed out of the office, the door clicking shut behind him.Alone now, Alexander leaned back in his leather chair, his expression darkening as his thoughts unraveled.Alexei. Richard. And that damn actor—Austin.His jaw clenched.Why the hell are there so many men around her?The more he thought about it, the more the rage simmered beneath his skin. Not long ago, he had been her husband—her only man. Now, it felt like he had to queue up just to earn a sliver of her attention. The indignity of it grated at him.And Alexei—Alexander was convinced tha

"Marilyn!" Serena rushed forward, catching her just as she stumbled. Mikhail was right behind, steadying her other side with a firm hand.Marilyn’s mind was a blur—static noise, white-hot and blinding. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t feel anything beyond the numbness sinking deep into her bones.They managed to get her into a hospital room. A nurse handed her a small bottle of sweet glucose water, and Serena gently helped tip it to her lips. Colors swirled around her field of vision like a kaleidoscope—too bright, too fast.The doctor stood at the bedside, clipboard in hand. “Her blood sugar dipped a bit, likely brought on by emotional shock. Nothing serious. What she needs now is rest, both physically and mentally.”Serena nodded silently, her gaze fixed on Marilyn, who sat pale and quiet against the starched white sheets. Her usually bright eyes were flat now, drained of their usual sparkle.Seven years.Seven years of love, trust, and promises—shattered in a heartbea

Whitney nearly dropped her phone.Her heart slammed in her chest as she stared at the message on her screen. Just five minutes ago, she had been trashing this exact person using a burner account—and now Serena was messaging her directly?Did she know? Could Serena somehow have figured out it was her behind those nasty posts?No... no way. That would be impossible.Then she looked again.Serena:Whitney, hey. I'm here to invite you to sign with E.A. Corporation.Whitney exhaled in pure relief. So it wasn't about the gossip. They were trying to poach her.Instantly, her panic gave way to smug satisfaction, and she slid into full diva mode.Whitney: Sorry, I’m currently the lead in a major TV drama. My schedule’s packed. Plus, my performance’s pretty phenomenal—maybe even award-worthy. I probably won’t have time to meet.She hit send and leaned back, smiling like a cat who just knocked something off a shelf. Sure, she said she was too busy—but her message practically screamed come chase

Serena was on her way to the office when her car slowed near a gas station. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a hunched figure crawling across the pavement—filthy, ragged, dragging one mangled leg behind him. The sight made her instinctively tap the brakes.Even from inside her car, she could almost smell the pungent odor of sweat, dirt, and decay that clung to him like a second skin. His clothes were tattered and soaked in grime. The leg he dragged behind him was grotesquely swollen, and the foot—what was left of it—looked like it had been crudely severed. Infection had set in, oozing through the open wound.Serena reached for her wallet, flipping through it quickly. She had just two hundred dollars in cash. Not much, but better than nothing. She gestured to the gas station attendant to fill up her tank, then stepped out of the car and walked toward the man.She crouched and placed the folded bills on the ground near him.But just as she began to stand, she heard a raspy whis