All Chapters of Billionaire’s Virgin Ex-Wife: Chapter 471 - Chapter 480

“I’ve thought it through carefully.”Ava slowly swirled the wine in her glass, watching the crimson liquid circle lazily along the rim. Her gaze remained lowered, as though the answer she sought might somehow be hiding there.“You really shouldn’t acknowledge Cello.”Alexander’s expression did not change.“Reason.”She lifted her eyes at last.“You want children,” she said quietly. “There are plenty of women who can give them to you.”Her tone was calm—too calm.“We can’t be together.”Alexander leaned back slightly in his chair.“Reason.”Ava looked directly at him now. The warm lamplight reflected in her dark eyes, making them shimmer with a sincerity she rarely allowed him to see.“I’m not suitable for you,” she said softly. “And you’re not suitable for me.”Silence lingered between them for a moment.Then Alexander spoke.“I don’t accept that.”Ava exhaled slowly and turned her face aside. When she looked back at him again, a hint of frustration had crept into her voice.“Then wha

One week earlier...The office was silent except for the faint hum of the city beyond the glass walls. Night had already settled over Manhattan, the skyline glittering like scattered diamonds beneath the dark sky. Yet Alexander Vanderbilt had not moved from his desk for nearly twenty minutes.A file lay open before him. Inside were photographs. Not business documents. Not contracts. People.Alexander lifted one between his fingers.The man in the photograph stood outside a modern glass building, speaking with several employees. His posture was relaxed, his expression professional.The name beneath the image read:John Walker. Alexander’s assistant. Or rather—his former assistant.Alexander leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable.“Send him in,” he said quietly.Finn, who stood near the door, nodded once and left.A few minutes later, the door opened. John Walker stepped inside. He was a man in his mid-thirties—well-dressed, composed, the sort of person who had always perf

“Alexander, I hate you!” The words burst from Ava’s lips, raw with anger. Her hand still gripped the pen, trembling, yet before she could thrust it forward again, Alexander calmly caught her wrist and lifted it aside. His other hand rose slowly, almost gently, and cradled her face.He leaned closer.Ava bit her lower lip and turned her head sharply away.He did not force her to face him. Instead, his lips brushed lightly against the curve of her cheek… then her earlobe. Soft. Deliberate.“I will never forgive you!” she snapped.Her head whipped back toward him, her dark eyes blazing.Alexander met that fury without flinching. “I don’t want your forgiveness.” His thumb moved slowly across her cheek, pushing aside the loose strands of hair clinging to her face. His voice had dropped low—hoarse, but steady. “I only want you.”Something in those words snapped the fragile restraint she had been clinging to.Ava lunged forward. Her teeth sank hard into his shoulder. Not a playful nip, not a

It took nine neat stitches to close the wound.After cutting the final thread, the doctor carefully dressed Ava’s leg, wrapping it in clean bandages with practiced efficiency. He then straightened and began listing the necessary precautions in a measured tone.“Try not to put strain on the wound. Keep it dry. Return immediately if there is any sign of infection—swelling, redness, fever…”“Does she need to be hospitalized?” Alexander interrupted, his brows still drawn tight.The doctor shook his head with a reassuring smile. “It’s only a superficial injury. There’s no need for admission. I’ll prescribe some anti-inflammatory medication.”Alexander did not look entirely satisfied.“What about anything else?”“Anything else?” The doctor paused, running quickly through his mental checklist. Finding nothing lacking, he added, “Diet-wise, she should keep things light. More vitamins, more protein—it will help the wound heal faster.”Alexander gave a short nod. “Add an extra box of ointment.”

The moment the lift doors parted, Ava recognised the familiar corridor and could have wept—whether from relief or sheer exhaustion, she could not quite tell.They had arrived at her building.She twisted in Alexander’s arms at once, intent on freeing herself, but his hold only tightened.“If you keep moving,” he murmured against her ear, his voice low and dangerously even, “I’ll take you again.”The threat was quiet—far too quiet—and therefore entirely believable.Ava stilled.She bit the inside of her cheek, then deliberately relaxed against him, allowing her weight to settle against his chest. It was not surrender—it was strategy. A sensible woman, after all, did not choose to fight a battle she was certain to lose, particularly while injured and at a disadvantage.And Alexander Vanderbilt, infuriatingly, always did exactly as he said he would.By the time she had finished that thought, he had already carried her into the lift.Finn followed with a discreet efficiency, gesturing for