Reborn: Leave Me Alone, Billionaire Ex のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 141 - チャプター 150

Wren’s sobs faltered at once as Ophelia’s sharp, unforgiving words cut through the air. The room, lit only by the muted gray of morning, suddenly felt colder—every pair of eyes turning toward the trembling girl at the center of attention.Wren’s tears hung on her lashes as she looked up, her gaze conflicted: distressed yet edged with a furtive, guilty flicker that Ophelia did not miss. She clung to the tissue in her lap, wishing she could evaporate under the scrutiny.“Enough,” Ophelia said quietly, but with the iron finality of a judge pronouncing a sentence. “Crying won’t change anything. Do you not understand that now is the time to show resolve, not drown yourself in tears?”The chill of her tone seemed almost to crystallize the air. Even Sandra, who sat closest to Wren on the sofa, felt its sting and shifted uncomfortably, torn between compassion and pragmatism. Silence reigned for several seconds—only the faint ticking of the antique clock on the mantle marked the passage of time

Wren’s palms were clammy with dread as she slit open the brown envelope Ophelia slid across the marble-topped table. The lounge was hushed—only the distant clatter of rain on windows, and Ophelia’s cool, steady breathing. Wren hesitated a moment before she retrieved the grainy surveillance photographs, her heart thudding erratically. Four images, each a blurred capture of betrayal.The first photo revealed a man in baggy sweats and ill-fitting hat, his face half-shadowed and artificial with a cheap beard. He was trailing behind her—Wren could tell from the faint glint of her own raincoat in the foreground. She remembered that day at the hospital, the prickling sense of being watched she’d dismissed as nerves. Now it was undeniable. The man’s phone was raised discreetly, a lens peeking out as he photographed her wobbling gait.The second photo was clearer. The same stranger slipping from the hospital wing, clutching a stolen folder—her medical records. The night outside was a sheet of r

Susan paced the ornate drawing room, her cheeks flushed in agitation, eyes darting restlessly between Wren and the others assembled. Standing near the hearth, Wren seemed to shrink into herself, her pale hands twisting the edge of her sleeve, gaze fixed on a spot just beyond the gilded fireplace screen.“You think you’re clever, don’t you?” Susan ’s voice was sharp as ice, her fingers coiling into fists. “You seduced Danny—don’t try to deny it.”“Mother, please,” Danny’s younger sister, Isabella , interjected from the divan. Her voice dripped with disdain as she studied Wren from head to toe, nose wrinkling. “She’s incapable of seducing anyone. Just look at her.”Wren’s cheeks burned, her lips parting slightly, but she remained silent. She stole a quick glance at Alexander, his dark eyes fastened on the swirling scene. If only she had the courage to speak her feelings for him, perhaps she’d be brave enough to defend herself properly now.But her tongue felt glued to the roof of her mou

Alexander stood, frozen, his gaze locked on Ophelia’s face. He had seen her cold rejection of Austin many times in his past life. She had always been indifferent to the man who pursued her relentlessly. But this was different. This wasn’t indifference. It was a clear, undisguised disgust—a pure, unadulterated hatred that had not been there before.The sight of it, raw and honest, stirred a flood of memories that hit him with the force of a physical blow. A cruel, vicious pain twisted in his gut, a familiar torment from a life he had been trying to forget. He remembered Ophelia had come to him many times, crying and telling him that Austin assaulted her. Her voice, so small and broken, echoed in his mind. He saw her face, streaked with tears, her eyes pleading for him to believe her, to protect her.But he hadn’t. He had been a fool. A self-absorbed, arrogant boy consumed by his own petty jealousy. He dismissed her complaints, thinking she was only trying to make him jealous. He had lau

Alexander was the one replaying in his head: Ophelia's raw pain, his pathetic weakness, and the cold wall of her hatred. Robert drove in a steady silence, a quiet, reassuring presence in the passenger seat, but Alexander was oblivious to anything beyond the confines of his own mind. He was consumed with a bitter, all-consuming guilt, aching pain that was a thousand times worse than the physical wounds he had suffered.He had once been a man who believed in his own judgment, a man who thought he knew the world and everyone in it. Now he was a man who was utterly, completely lost in a sea of self-loathing. He had asked himself a thousand times, and he would ask himself a thousand more: "Why?"He ran a weary hand through his hair. "Why was I so blind?" The question echoed in the cavern of his mind brutal accusation. He had been so blind, so stupid, so consumed by his own arrogance that he had refused to see the truth. He had refused to see the pain in her eyes, the truth in her words. He