All Chapters of Billionaire’s Virgin Ex-Wife: Chapter 291 - Chapter 300

Serena tried to turn away, her body instinctively tensing, but Alexander shamelessly buried his face into the curve of her neck. His breath was warm, soft against her skin, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine.Dopamine was a traitor—blurring logic, intensifying sensation. And in that moment, every ounce of clarity Serena possessed crumbled.She exhaled shakily and turned over, trying to put some distance between them. But Alexander moved with her, slipping in beside her with casual ease. His arm curled around her waist like it belonged there, drawing her back against the heat of his body.Yet he didn’t take her—at least, not all the way.He lingered in that charged space between restraint and surrender. His hands roamed slowly, lips grazing her jaw, her collarbone, the sensitive spot behind her ear. He kissed her deeply, deliberately, and held her like she was something rare—something he couldn’t afford to break.Her body, already wound tight from his teasing, ached for more.

Disclaimer : sexual conduct is mentioned along with prostitution. If this is something that makes you feel uncomfortable, please scroll all the way down until you found a "hotline 0808 500 222" then it is safe to read onwards. Meanwhile, in the dim, stale air of a high-end hotel suite, Marilyn lay crumpled on the plush carpet, her cheek pressed against its cold fibers. The faint scent of cologne and expensive whiskey lingered in the room, mingling with the metallic tang of her own bitten lip.Her body felt like it had been taken apart piece by piece and put back together wrong—aching joints, bruised skin, a raw heaviness in her limbs. She had numbed herself with medication beforehand, knowing she wouldn’t survive the night otherwise. Being with a man like him was not something one could endure sober.The man lounged on the bed, his toned frame propped casually against the headboard, eyes fixed on her with an expression that was more disdain than satisfaction. After a long silence, hi

Back at Le Châteauesque Manor, the quiet of the evening was broken only by the soft shuffle of paws on polished marble. Rex, her loyal golden retriever, kept nudging Serena’s feet with his nose, a silent plea for attention. But Serena wasn’t in the mood for games. Her gaze was fixed on the stack of documents before her—though they were upside down, and she hadn’t even noticed.Across the room, the glow of her computer screen spilled across the desk. A headline blinked on the news feed: Vanderbilt Group and Vortex Automotive Group Seal Landmark Partnership.Serena’s eyes narrowed slightly. Alexander Vanderbilt—CEO of the Vanderbilt Group, financial prodigy hailed by both Wall Street and Silicon Valley—was clearly playing his next move. But what exactly was his endgame?A notification popped up. An interview clip had just been released—Alexander in Italy, speaking to a well-known journalist.The video loaded, and there he was: perfectly tailored suit, posture straight as if the chair had

All eyes locked on Serena, the collective assumption being that she wouldn’t dare to take a step forward.In the glittering hierarchy of high society, Serena Morales was a ghost—someone whose name would have never been uttered in these circles if not for her association with Alexander Vanderbilt. Now, curiosity sharpened into mockery. Whispered jabs and sidelong smirks passed through the crowd like ripples in still water.Wes, standing near the edge of the room, felt a spike of unease. But then, to his surprise—and the shock of everyone else—Serena began walking toward the stage.Gasps flitted through the audience. A few mouths fell open in disbelief. Was she insane? Going up there now, unprepared, would be nothing short of public suicide.Serena, however, seemed unfazed.She wasn’t dressed for spectacle—no sequined gown or artful train. Her attire tonight was clean, simple, tailored for business rather than vanity, a stark contrast to Beatrice Whitehall’s dazzling ensemble that glitt

Alexander stood just outside the doorway, a strange blend of bitterness and sweetness curling in his chest. He didn’t say a word, only watching Serena until, a few minutes later, she emerged, fully dressed, her hair neatly brushed back. Without hesitation, she hooked her fingers around his sleeve and tugged him toward the hallway.He stopped mid-step. “I need to change too,” he murmured.Only then did Serena notice—he was still in his pajamas.“Then hurry up,” she urged, casting a quick glance at her watch. A faint crease formed between her brows. “If we’re too late, there might not be any specialists left at the hospital.”She stepped out into the hall to wait, pacing idly in front of the master bedroom. But half an hour passed, and the door remained stubbornly closed.Her patience waned. Serena’s frown deepened as she finally pushed the door open.Inside, Alexander was stretched out on the bed, his suit laid out neatly beside him, untouched.“Alexander?” she called softly, walking o