All Chapters of Billionaire’s Virgin Ex-Wife: Chapter 331 - Chapter 340

Le Châteauesque Manor was shrouded in a tense silence, the kind that made the air itself feel heavy. Alexander sat motionless in his wheelchair, his expression carved from stone. Every second that ticked by gnawed at him, his knuckles whitening as his hand curled into a fist on the armrest. His eyes stayed fixed in the direction Serena had gone, as though he could drag her back with sheer force of will.Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he exhaled slowly. His voice came out low, devoid of warmth, each word cutting like ice.“Take her away.”The command sliced through the stillness.Maria Torres’s heart lurched. Layla? He meant Layla? Her stomach twisted. Rex was still lying in the clinic, suspended between life and death. The vet’s words—touch and go—rang in her ears. Serena had only left to see Rex, perhaps to hold him one last time. To Maria, anyone who had ever loved a pet would understand the devastation of that moment. And yet… Alexander was demanding that the culprit be

Hugo sat slouched on the edge of his leather sofa, the glow of his phone screen casting a faint blue light across his face. His jaw tightened as he read the last message again, irritation bubbling beneath the surface. With a sharp exhale, half a laugh and half a curse, he tossed the phone onto the coffee table.For a fleeting moment, he considered dialing the police station, having Layla sent back immediately. She wasn’t worth the trouble—not worth souring things with Alexander over.But then Alexander’s words echoed in his mind.Apologize to Serena.That was it. No mention of Layla, no demands, no warnings about her. Hugo leaned back into the couch cushions, his brow furrowing. If Alexander hadn’t brought her up, did that mean he was already dealing with Layla on his own terms?And—more troubling still—did Alexander already know the truth about the child she carried?The thought left a bitter taste in Hugo’s mouth. He reached for the phone again, his fingers hesitating over the screen

The room was dimly lit, a soft amber glow from the bedside lamp casting long shadows across the walls. Alexander sat propped against a mound of pillows, his broad frame diminished by the weakness that still clung to him. His shirt hung loosely from his shoulders, unbuttoned at the collar, his chest bandaged beneath layers of gauze. He parted his lips as if to speak, but no words came.Serena, seated at the edge of the bed, stirred a bowl of oatmeal until the steam dispersed. With quiet patience, she lifted a spoonful and held it near his mouth. He accepted it reluctantly at first, but as the warm porridge slid down his throat, some of the sharp tension in his features softened.Bit by bit, she fed him, steady and gentle, never rushing. When the bowl was empty, she set it aside and leaned closer, her fingers deftly undoing the rest of his buttons. The faint scent of antiseptic lingered in the air as she peeled the fabric back and examined the wound on his chest. Her touch was careful, a

When Serena stepped back into Alexander’s room, she found him already preparing for a bath.She had long since realized he was a perfectionist when it came to cleanliness. Even with fresh bandages and a healing body, he couldn’t tolerate a trace of sweat clinging to his skin. The faintest discomfort drove him restless until he felt spotless.Taking the towel in hand, Serena began gently wiping his arms and chest. His skin was warm beneath her touch, the faint scent of medicinal herbs rising from the ointments applied earlier. She raised a brow, unable to hold back her curiosity.“How did you manage in the army,” she asked, carefully drying each of his long fingers, “when you’re such a neat freak?”Alexander tilted his head, watching her with a lazy amusement. His lips curved faintly, as though the memory entertained him.“That was different,” he murmured. “There were no conditions there.”The way he said it—so matter-of-fact, yet tinged with pride—made her chuckle. Clearly, he was enj

After Edmund left, Miriam wasted no time dialing Serena’s number. Her voice was tight with urgency when Serena picked up.“Ms. Morales, you need to be careful around the Whitehall family—especially Edmund. He’s spreading word that Mr. Vanderbilt was behind Beatrice’s downfall, and he’s got his eyes set on you next. The man’s trouble. Most people can’t handle him.”Serena sat at her desk, the soft glow of her desk lamp spilling across a mountain of paperwork. She wasn’t surprised. Edmund Whitehall’s reputation had preceded him for years—a man drunk on his own arrogance, infamous for flaunting his power. There were stories of him pulling the trigger on a man in broad daylight, daring the law to stop him.“I understand,” Serena said evenly. “Miriam, you watch yourself too. Stay as far away from Edmund as you can.”They ended the call, and the office fell back into silence, broken only by the ticking clock on the wall. Serena rubbed at her temples, finally glancing at the time—already past