All Chapters of Reborn: Leave Me Alone, Billionaire Ex: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

The doctor finished checking Alexander’s wound and, with a satisfied nod, began packing away his things. "No serious injury here. Just keep the dressing clean, and don’t strain yourself for a few days. I’ll be back tomorrow to check the stitches."“Thank you," Alexander replied, voice barely above a whisper. He kept his posture straight, trying to disguise the pain that still stabbed at his side.The doctor smiled reassuringly and exited, leaving the room cloaked in silence. Alexander started to turn toward Ophelia, intending to speak, but before he could say a word, the door swung open with a rush of air.Nathan strode in a bright presence against the subdued mood of the room. He wore a red basketball jersey clipped with a white stripe, gym shorts, and carried a black duffel bag slung over one shoulder. His tanned skin was still flush from exertion, beads of sweat glistening along his brow. He grinned, carefree, as if bringing sunlight inside with him.Marcus was the first to notice.

Robert’s hand clamped onto Alexander’s shoulder, his voice low but fervent. “You’re going to hurt yourself even worse. Please, just…wait until you’ve rested. Let Miss Ophelia go for now.”But Alexander was beyond hearing pleas. He shrugged out of Robert’s grasp, his jaw set with a rare stubbornness. “I have to talk to her,” he rasped, breath coming unevenly, “before she leaves.”His legs wobbled beneath him as he lurched forward, sheer will the only thing holding him upright—and will was no match for exhaustion and pain. Two steps, and the hall seemed to tilt. Black pinpricks danced before his eyes. He faltered.Out of the periphery came steady arms. Nathan stepped in with practiced ease, catching Alexander under the shoulders before he hit the floor.“Whoa, hey, easy,” Nathan said gently, steadying him. “You need to take it slow. There’s no shame in it.”Alexander’s cheeks colored with frustration and embarrassment. He couldn’t quite meet Nathan’s eyes, could only mutter a muted, “Tha

Each time Ophelia spat hatred, a part of him wanted to believe it was just a specter; perhaps she was simply a new woman, embittered in this life, her soul untouched by the agony and betrayal of their past.Yet the lacerating clarity and venom in her words—their eerie, mocking precision, the way she looked at him with such chilling familiarity—told him otherwise. And when she spoke again, her voice low and cold, the truth crashed over him like freezing water.“You have such gall, Alexander. After all this time, do you really not recognize me? Shall I remind you? ‘Not even as good as a prostitute’—that’s what you called me.” She bit the words off, each syllable stinging sharper than a blade. “No one else would have thought of it. Only you. Only my beloved fiancé, the one who thought my loyalty was filth.”He recoiled as if struck. The memory hit him—shaming and suffocating. That night, so many years ago, Ophelia trembling with mingled rage and heartbreak, the world cold as he cast those

Ophelia’s room was a haven of dusk and quiet. She had just closed the wardrobe, brushing her fingers down the navy velvet of her new dress, when three crisp knocks sounded at the door. She sighed.“Come in,” she called, her tone flat.The door creaked open, and Wren slipped inside, her lips pressed into an uncertain line.“Ophie…?” Wren’s voice was deliberately feeble, a trembling uncertainty that carried too much calculation not to notice. She hovered in the doorway, hands twisting the hem of her sleeve. “Do you have a moment to speak?”Ophelia didn’t answer right away. She settled herself on the bed, arms folded, legs crossed at the ankles. Her gaze raked slowly over Wren, cool and unimpressed. “If you’re going to apologize, get on with it.”Wren flinched but entered, shutting the door behind her. She scanned the room—warm, neat, gentle, nothing like the storm she sensed from the girl on the bed. Carefully, she moved to stand a few paces away.“I… I wanted to apologize in private, fo

The air at the dinner table sat heavy and so thick with tension it seemed each inhalation snagged like thread pulling through velvet. Ophelia’s words crashed into the room with icy force. Hannah froze, her face blanching from rose-pink to ashen white. She looked for a moment as if she might splinter from the inside.Hannah, ever nervy and quick-eyed, leapt in without hesitation. “That’s not true!” Her voice rang, a shrill note of indignation layered with anxiety. “I haven’t lied to anyone!”She clenched her fork, knuckles whitening. Her words trailed off, a tremor in her voice betraying her. She shrank miserably, as though she wanted to curl in on herself.Ophelia brow arched with a touch of theatrical surprise. “Hannah,” she said smoothly, her tone bright but edged like glass, “why so defensive? I simply pointed out how differently you treat your other sisters and brothers. And Alexander… it’s as if you carry his photo around in your wallet but would you ever do the same for Wren?”Ha