All Chapters of Reborn: Leave Me Alone, Billionaire Ex: Chapter 171 - Chapter 180

Chaos, when it struck, did so with a violence that echoed through the city and beyond, shaking Ophelia from her fragile patterns. It was Thursday morning, the scent of violets drifting from her grandmother’s laboratory, when her phone vibrated with an unfamiliar urgency.“Miss Harvey?” The voice on the line was clipped, official. “This is St. Augustine’s Hospital. Marcus Gray has listed you as his medical emergency contact. He’s been brought in—he’s stable, but you should come.”Ophelia’s heart thundered. “What happened?”The words, though careful, left no room for comfort. “He was attacked just outside his home. Please, come as soon as you’re able.”She dropped everything—rushing through the city, her mind a wild snarl of worry and dread. The world blurred by in gray streaks.She arrived at the hospital breathless, pushing through the sliding doors, barely nodding at the receptionist as she asked, “Marcus Gray, where is he?”“He’s just out of surgery. Room 513. Take the elevator to th

The chilling grip of evening was broken only by the sharp, desperate sound of a woman’s scream. It was a sound that didn't belong to the city’s low, constant hum—it was raw, primal, a rent in the mundane fabric of the night.Ophelia’s vision blurred as she staggered against the wall, her shoulder exploding with blinding pain where the man’s knife had grazed her. The air was thick with the reek of stale garbage and fear, and the metallic, coppery tang of her own blood suddenly mingled with the sickening, dizzying surge of panic in her veins. She tried to push her assailant away, her fingers scrabbling, her nails raking desperately at the rough fabric of his jacket, seeking any leverage, any weakness.Then, a miracle, or perhaps just a person with a conscience. The nurse named Beverly in pale blue scrubs, her face etched with exhaustion from a double shift—saw the scuffle as she left the hospital’s dimly lit back entrance. Beverly didn't hesitate. She threw her bag down, its contents sca

Ophelia turned her gaze from the window, her face cast in a half-shadow. The world outside was sharp and indifferent, blue sky pressing against high glass as if to remind her that life moved on, regardless of broken heads or broken hearts.The steady beep of the monitoring machines was the only sound in the room, though it seemed to pulse in time with Alexander’s presence—impossible to ignore. He was perched in the uncomfortable bedside chair, his posture more stubborn than relaxed. His jacket hung over the back of the chair, sleeves rumpled and tie loosened, as if admitting imperfection for once in his life.“Alexander,” Ophelia said, her voice thin, “there’s really no need to stay any longer. I’m fine. You don’t need to keep hovering over me.”He didn’t look away from the news segment flickering on the muted television, nor from the silent window that overlooked a distant, windswept garden. But his jaw set in that familiar pattern of resolve. “I’m not leaving.”She tried to steel her

The room was quiet, save for the low whir of the city beyond the windows and the muted tick-tick of Alexander’s laptop keys. Night had pressed in around the building, painting the walls with blue shadows and puddling the lamplight across Ophelia’s face. She needs to change into pyjamas, jaw set with a private battle.But the problem was. The annoying Alexander was sitting across from her. His presence made the air thick and restless, and each click of his keyboard sent a spark of irritation through her bones.As she rummaged for her silk top, Ophelia paused. She could not change while he was there—his carelessness, his disregard for boundaries made her unsettled, made the whole place feel smaller than her own skin.Enough was enough.“Alexander, get out. This isn’t your office, and it isn’t your home.”He didn’t even look up from his screen, his lips twitching at her command. “Come now, darling. Surely you’re not shy. It’s not as if I haven’t seen you naked before.” There was a wicked

The next day Alexander woke with a start, cold sweat slicked down his back. Grey morning light pooled across tangled sheets—sheets that should have cocooned a pair, not just one. He reached out, instinctively seeking warmth.Empty.“Ophelia?” His voice emerged raw and uncertain, the syllables muffled by panic. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing calm, but icy fear gnawed at his gut.He rolled from bed and flung open the bathroom door. Steamless glass, vacant tiles. He checked the adjoining sitting room, then swept through the suite, calling her name. “Ophelia!” Every unanswered echo made his chest ache.A thousand appalling memories crashed over him—years of searching, the sound of her shoes disappearing down marble halls, his own broken promises repeating like a curse.It’s happening again.His breathing turned ragged, chest crushed by invisible hands. Could she have left while he slept? Slipped away with that careful, resolute silence she’d always wielded as a shield?He staggered bac