All Chapters of Reborn: Leave Me Alone, Billionaire Ex: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

“Ophelia, I’ve arranged for a highly esteemed teacher to guide you in your preparations for the Fragrance Competition along with your father,” Alexander announced, his tone carrying the weight of paternal authority. “And yet you're not grateful.”Ophelia’s lips curled. In the past, she might have felt gratitude, maybe even excitement. But now, all she heard were the subtle notes of manipulation in his voice.She met Alexander’s gaze squarely. “How thoughtful of you, I suppose you hired this ‘teacher’ out of the blue because you believe I’m incompetent?”Alexander’s eyes narrowed. Hannah quickly moved to his side, her smile gentle, demure. “Ophelia, you shouldn’t misunderstand. Alexander is only thinking of your reputation. After all, you bear the Harvey name in the upcoming competition—it’s only natural he wants you to shine.”Ophelia’s eyes flickered to Hannah, reading the guile beneath her soft features. She leaned back, folding her arms. “And what about you, Hannah? Planning to atte

As promised Ophelia took Marcus to dinner at a high end restaurant. Marcus kept to her right, his posture relaxed but Ophelia could sense his watchfulness, a silent alertness born of old instincts.However, a sudden commotion by the glass doors made them both pause. Raised voices, a muffled laugh and a familiar cadence, one Ophelia had learned to distrust.She barely had time to register Vincent’s form before Alexander appeared with Hannah by his side. Alexander’s gaze flickered in her direction, unreadable as ever, icy blue eyes giving away nothing. He didn’t stop, didn’t even allow the trace of a nod. He kept walking. Only the tightening of his jaw betrayed any emotion.Marcus hesitated. “Everything all right?” he murmured as they were ushered in by a nervous hostess.Ophelia shrugged, her expression smooth, masking the thrum beneath her skin.“Perfectly,” she said, almost breezily. “Let’s not let the company in the lobby ruin the meal.”Marcus gave her a look that was half concern,

At the hospital, harsh fluorescent lights cast a pallor on Ophelia’s already pale face as she sat beside Marcus’s gurney, her fists clenched tightly on her knees. Paramedics worked quickly as they checked Marcus's vitals and stemmed the bleeding on his back. The white sheets were already blotched with red.“Stay with me, Marcus,” she whispered, forcing herself to sound braver than she felt. Her fingers brushed his cold hand, as if that fragile contact alone might keep his soul tethered.He was barely conscious, his eyelids fluttering, his lips parted as though words wanted to come but dissolved into pained gasps. When their eyes met for the briefest second, she tried to smile for him. Marcus’s brow furrowed—he willed himself to hold on—but he was slipping.Behind them, the doors banged open as another stretcher was wheeled in. Ophelia didn’t even turn. Alexander’s groan echoed in the corridor, faint and distorted by pain. As he was rolled into the triage area, his gaze raked the room u

By the time Marcus regained consciousness, the soft gold of dawn had deepened into full morning. At first, Marcus barely felt grounded in his body; he was floating, somewhere between sleep and waking, until the steady ache along his back reminded him exactly where he was.His face pressed against the hospital pillow, he shifted and winced. The pain seared sharply along his side when he tried to move, and instinctively, he tried to turn, but found it impossible. A strange mix of vulnerability and relief flooded him: at least the pain meant he was really awake—that he had survived the night.Blinking, his blurry gaze settled on the small figure slumped beside his bed. The light caught in her waves of dark hair as she rested her head near his arm, folds of her cardigan spilling over slim shoulders. Ophelia. The sight of her soothed the residual anxiety in his chest. Somehow, she always anchored him, even in his worst moments.He lifted his fingers, shaky and slow, and brushed them lightly

Philip’s hands trembled as he clutched the steering wheel, white-knuckled, while Sandra’s eyes remained fixed on her phone, anxiously waiting for any update from Rose, the loyal maid who had stayed behind with Ophelia through the night.“How could this happen?” Sandra whispered, barely above a breath, her free hand twisting the fabric of her dress. “At Gray’s house of all places…I can’t believe they—”“We’ll talk about it later,” Philip cut her off, worry roughening his tone. He slammed the car into gear, his gaze fierce and unwavering. “First we need to see Ophelia. That’s all that matters right now.”As their car pulled up to the hospital, Philip didn’t wait for the engine to stop fully before swinging the door open. Inside, beige linoleum floors gleamed under fluorescent lights. As soon as they pushed open the ward door, relief weakened their knees: Ophelia stood by the window, framed by sunlight, unharmed except for dark circles under her eyes that told the real story of her sleepl