All Chapters of Reborn: Leave Me Alone, Billionaire Ex: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Ruby fidgeted, her eyes darting nervously between Alexander and the elegant, subtly mirrored wall of the private dining room. She'd confessed, yes, but a thread of apprehension still snaked through her.This was Alexander – always controlled, always with an agenda. She didn't fully trust his sudden camaraderie, his supposed shared "hatred" for Sam."So," she began, trying to sound nonchalant, "you'll really help me with Daniel? And with… getting rid of Sam?"Alexander remained perfectly still, his hands still casually in his pockets, his gaze unblinking."My word is my bond, Ruby. Especially when it benefits me, and by extension, the family." His tone was devoid of any overt reassurance, a subtle hint that her compliance was still expected.Just then, Ruby's phone vibrated, an insistent buzz against the polished tabletop. She glanced at the screen: Daniel. Her heart fluttered. This was a direct line to what she wanted most.A fleeting thought of sharing the "good news" of Alexander's s

"Ophelia, you stated you have proof. Produce it. Now."Ophelia didn't hesitate. With a cool, deliberate movement, she reached into her bag and pulled out a sleek, black digital recorder. She placed it on the polished mahogany table, its small, unassuming presence commanding the full attention of everyone in the room.Her gaze flickered from Ruby's terrified face to Sam's bewildered one, and then settled briefly on Alexander, a silent acknowledgment passing between them."This," Ophelia stated, her voice calm and clear, cutting through the thick silence, "is a voice recording."Ruby's eyes darted nervously between the recorder and Ophelia's impassive face. "A recording? Of what? What nonsense is this?"Ophelia pressed play. The room filled with static for a moment, then, unmistakably, Ruby’s voice, albeit muffled, began to speak."...Yes! I just want to get rid of him! He’s always holding me back! Always stifling me! I hate him!"Ruby’s face paled, her eyes widening in disbelief, then h

It was well past midnight. The grand house of her grandma was surrounded by high hedges and thick silence, and was mostly darkened, save for the faint golden light seeping from under the living room door on the second floor.On the velvet couch sat Ophelia in her silk pajama shirt loosely knotted at the waist, catching the lamplight and shimmering with every movement. Her bare feet curled beneath her, toes brushing the wool rug.A half-full glass of red wine dangled from her slender fingers, and a second bottle sat open on the coffee table, condensation beading the dark glass.She made no real attempt to be quiet. The wine glass clinked against the marble top. Her phone buzzed as she slid it across the table, scrolling with the other hand and letting out soft, pointed sighs.It was Alexander, telling her to come down. She doesn't know why he's here again after the matter is solved.She could almost sense Alexander’s irritation smoothing down the hallway like invisible static—she knew h

Ophelia stepped back but Alexander hovered close, uncertainty and longing etched across his face. For a man once hailed as the quintessential man, regal, proud, self-assured, he looked nothing of the sort now. His mouth trembled with unsaid words, his hands clenched at his sides, knuckles whitening.“Ophelia, please,” he reached for her wrist. “I know I was a…a fool, a complete ass. I can barely—God, I can barely forgive myself for what I did to you. But—” His throat bobbed with a swallow. “I’m trying to change. I need you to give me a chance. I love you.”There it was. The words at last, tumbling out between ragged breaths, carried on a mixture of hope and desperation that must have been unfamiliar to him.But as Alexander watched, searching for even the smallest hint of hope, Ophelia’s face remained utterly still. Not a flicker crossed her eyes, no surprise, no hope, not even the satisfaction he half-expected a spurned woman to feel. Only cool, deliberate detachment.“You love me?” S

The vast foyer of the Gray mansion greeted Marcus and Ophelia with the faint, floral scent that never seemed to leave the air, no matter which season. Light filtered through high windows, catching on the crystal vases and heavy velvet drapes.Ophelia’s heels clicked sharply against the marble floor, echoing her impatience. Marcus, ever-attentive, tried to keep his pace measured to hers, though his nerves buzzed beneath his calm façade.They stepped into the living room of the Gray family. Sitting on an ornate settee were Hannah, with her rigid posture and polite smile; Wren, her arms crossed tightly, eyes guarded; and Alexander, whose casually slouched demeanor belied his watchfulness. An older woman with striking silver hair and shrewd, deep-set eyes perched gracefully beside them, her hands folded neatly in her lap.Ophelia’s mood, already brittle, soured immediately. She caught Wren’s narrowed eyes, Alexander’s insufferable half-smirk, and Hannah’s computed warmth. Ophelia felt the