All Chapters of The billionaire virgin wife: Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

The city was alive beneath the penthouse windows, but Isabella barely noticed the skyline tonight. The towers glittered like silver blades against a velvet sky, their lights pulsing as though the city itself were breathing. Somewhere far below, traffic hummed like an endless current, people moved through their own stories, laughter spilled from restaurants, and music floated faintly from a rooftop bar carried by the wind.But none of it touched her. She sat curled on the velvet chaise in her dressing room, bridal sketches spread across her lap like fragile wings. A single candle flickered on the table beside her, its golden light spilling across her thoughtful face, throwing her profile into soft relief. Shadows clung to the corners of the room, making her little world of papers, pencils, and delicate fabrics feel like an island carved out from the darkness.Her pen hovered above the page, but her hand hadn’t moved in a long while. Instead, her eyes lingered on the unfinished notes sc

Damian leaned back in his leather chair, the vast city stretched beneath his office like a glittering chessboard. From this height, the world seemed orderly, manageable, as though every street, every light, every soul moving below was just another piece waiting for him to maneuver. Yet tonight, for the first time in months, he did not see strategy. He did not see battles or rivals waiting to strike. What he felt was silence.And silence, for Damian , was an unfamiliar thing.The reporters who once clawed at every word from his lips had quieted. Headlines that had once torn Isabella apart with merciless teeth had softened into dreamy speculation about the “wedding of the year.” He should have been relieved, maybe even triumphant. But all he felt was the weight of something fragile pressing against his chest.His phone buzzed against the mahogany surface of his desk. He did not need to check, but he did. A glossy magazine cover filled the screen. Isabella’s face, caught in a candid mome

From the tinted window of a sleek black sedan parked across the street, Helena sat with her chin tilted ever so slightly, watching Jaxon corp loom over the heart of the city. Cars streamed past in hurried rivers of red and white lights, horns echoing, voices blending into the symphony of a restless city.Her gaze was fixed. Calculated. She barely blinked as the revolving doors of the tower opened and Isabella stepped out of the afternoon light and into view. The woman moved with an ease that irritated Helena to the bone. Isabella carried herself as if the entire street had been built only to welcome her presence. She was dressed in something simple, understated but elegant, and draped over her arm was a glossy dress bag that spoke of fittings, tailoring, and preparations for a future Helena intended to shatter.Isabella’s figure swayed gracefully as she walked up the marble steps, her movements unhurried but glowing with the quiet confidence of someone who believed the world had final

Clarissa leaned back on her velvet chaise, the glow of her phone illuminating her flawless face. A glass of champagne rested on the side table, untouched, as her fingers danced across the screen.The post was subtle. Too subtle for anyone to pin on her. A “concerned citizen” account with no face, no name, only a carefully cultivated history of gossip and “insider truths.”It is strange how quickly a woman can rise from nothing, she typed, lips curving in satisfaction. Almost as if someone is hiding where she really came from.She hit post. Within minutes, comments began to spark. Speculation. Questions. Half-truths twisted into whispers.“Didn’t she live in Russia for years? No one knows what she was doing.”“Rumors say she had a different name before Damian discovered her.”“Money buys silence… until it doesn’t.”Clarissa’s laughter was soft but cruel, each comment a thread feeding the web she was weaving. Helena wanted patience. Fine. Clarissa would prepare the ground, watering the

The city woke slowly that morning, sunlight spilling across rooftops like a blessing. But for Isabella, the air felt charged , heavy, expectant, as though the entire world held its breath.Her reflection in the mirror looked like something from a dream. The ivory gown hugged her bodice, its delicate lace spilling into a train that swept across the floor like mist. A simple veil cascaded from her hair, framing the glow of her face.Eleanor clasped her hands, eyes shimmering with unspoken emotion. “You look… breathtaking.”Isabella smiled nervously. “I don’t feel real. I keep waiting to wake up.”“You will not,” Eleanor whispered firmly. “Today is real. Today is yours.”For a long while, Isabella held her godmother’s gaze, drawing strength from the older woman’s certainty. Eleanor had been her anchor when storms threatened to tear her apart, the voice that reminded her she was more than the pain she had endured, more than the doubts that had whispered she was not enough. A knock came a