All Chapters of Billionaire’s Virgin Ex-Wife: Chapter 411 - Chapter 420

Alexander Vanderbilt had always considered women synonymous with trouble and boredom—until he met her and discovered that exceptions existed. She, for instance, had the uncanny ability to make him unwilling to let go of her from dawn until long past nightfall.*********“Mommy!”Her shoulder was shaken insistently, and Ava felt as though she had been shoved off a cliff, her body jerking violently as she snapped awake from a dream.Her lashes fluttered open to a somewhat yellowed ceiling, faint cracks tracing across it like old memories. For several seconds, she lay there dazed, her mind suspended between reality and the remnants of sleep.She had dreamed of him again.The dream dragged her back to that night seven years ago with cruel precision, as if time itself had folded inward. Darkness pressed close around them, heavy and intimate, broken only by the steady rhythm of their breaths. His presence was overwhelming—heat, strength, and a quiet dominance that left no room for escape.H

The elevator was crowded as people filed in one after another. Ava slipped in last, quietly taking her place in the corner.Her posture was poised—chin lifted slightly, a faint professional smile on her lips. Yet, despite her composed appearance, her eyes betrayed her restraint, stealing a discreet glance toward the man standing at the center.Seven years had passed. Seven long years.And he was still the same.It was as if time itself had conspired in his favor. Not a single line marred that sculpted face; not even the faintest trace of fatigue dulled the sharpness of his gaze. If anything, he’d grown more refined—more quietly commanding, with that aura of authority that made the air around him heavier, harder to breathe.He didn’t glance her way. Not even once. His gaze stayed fixed on the elevator doors, cool and distant.Oddly enough, that gave her a sense of relief.It seemed he hadn’t recognized her—and that was for the best. Seven years could change a person beyond recognition,

After dinner, Ava brought little Marcello up to her office.The boy, his cheeks still slightly flushed from the meal, set up his drawing board on the coffee table and began sketching in quiet concentration. Meanwhile, Ava made her usual evening rounds across the 56th floor—checking each section of the workspace with her characteristic thoroughness. The soft hum of office lights and the faint scent of paper and ink trailed behind her as she inspected every detail. Once she confirmed everything was in order, she returned to her office.Marcello had just finished his drawing—a bright splash of color, a world entirely his own. Smiling, Ava crouched beside him and gently tapped his shoulder. “Let’s go, little man. Time to exercise!”From the cabinet, she took out his small swimsuit and her own neatly folded sportswear.Since Marcello was still growing, Ava made his health her top priority. The little boy was strong for his age—tall, lean, and full of energy. He almost never fell sick. Swimm

Inside the sleek glass-walled audition room of VE (Vanderbilt Enterprises), the atmosphere buzzed with quiet intensity. A row of cameras stood poised, lights glowing softly as the production crew whispered among themselves.On the oversized black leather sofa, a small boy in a perfectly tailored miniature suit sat with poise well beyond his years. His feet dangled just above the floor, yet he carried himself like a young monarch presiding over his court—back straight, hands resting on the armrests, expression calm and faintly regal.Even seated, Cello exuded an almost magnetic self-assurance. The camera adored him; every tilt of his chin and blink of his long lashes seemed deliberate, natural, and effortlessly photogenic.Just then, the heavy oak door of the audition room swung open.Alexander Vanderbilt stepped inside. His tall figure cast a shadow across the glossy marble floor as he took in the scene with his usual sharp, assessing gaze.The company had recently decided to acquire a

“Bastard—what are you doing? Let go!”Buttons scattered across the marble like startled insects, clicking and skittering before disappearing into the steam.Ava cursed under her breath, twisting in his grip, fighting the strength that held her pinned.Damn him—he was far stronger than she’d anticipated. Her fingers clawed at his wrists, but Alexander didn’t so much as flinch.Water still hissed from the broken showerhead, mist curling like smoke through the narrow bathroom as they struggled—her breath ragged, his movements taut with frustration. His hand slipped lower, gripping the hem of her soaked blouse. The fabric clung to her skin, half-translucent and slick from the spray. When he tugged, it refused to give. When she jerked away, his determination only hardened.“Stop—” she gasped, but her voice drowned beneath the sharp, tearing sound that followed.The blouse ripped clean down the back.Her ruined coat slid from her shoulders and landed on the floor with a wet slap. A rush of c