All Chapters of THE BILLIONAIRE WHO THREW AWAY HIS VIRGIN WIFE: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Elena’s pov“Alexander, please.” My voice came out uneven. “Let me see the papers properly. Let me explain every page. Call the clinic. Check the hotel records. Do anything except decide the entire truth from a folder someone handed you tonight.”“I already checked enough.” His voice remained calm, almost distant. “I don’t need you to explain away clear evidence.”“It’s not clear. It’s wrong.” I took another step closer. “I have never set foot in that hotel. I have never been to any clinic for that reason. I have never sent those messages. Someone put my name on things that have nothing to do with me.”He looked at me the way he looked at people across a negotiation table when he had already decided the outcome.“I asked you directly,” he said. “More than once. You looked me in the eye and told me you had never been with anyone. That was a condition I was clear about. You knew what it meant to me.”“And I told you the truth.” My hands were cold. “Every time. I have never lied to you a

Elena’s povI woke to the sound of the old coffee maker in the kitchen and the low scrape of a chair against the floor. For a few seconds I didn’t remember where I was. The ceiling was the wrong color. The mattress felt too narrow. Then the night before came back in one clean, heavy piece and I turned my face into the pillow.I was in my old bedroom at Mom’s apartment.I had left the hotel just after first light. I couldn’t stay in that impersonal room any longer. I had called her from the sidewalk, voice flat, and she had only said, “Come home.” She didn’t ask questions on the phone. She just stayed on the line until I got into the cab.Now the morning was fully here, and so was the reality I had been trying not to look at.I sat up slowly. My body felt sore in a way that had nothing to do with sleep. The jeans and sweater from last night were still on me. I hadn’t bothered changing again.A soft knock sounded at the door.“Elena?” Mom’s voice was quiet. “I’m coming in.”She opened

Elena’s povTwo days passed without a single word from him.I stayed at Mom’s apartment and tried to build a rhythm out of ordinary things. Coffee in the morning. A shower. Answering the emails from the lawyers with the shortest possible replies. I didn’t call him. I didn’t text. The silence on his side was complete, and I told myself I wasn’t going to be the one to break it.Mom watched me carefully without hovering.“You don’t have to keep checking your phone,” she said on the second morning when she caught me looking at the screen again.“I’m not waiting for him,” I said.“I know you’re not waiting the way you think you are. But you’re still checking.”I set the phone face down on the table. “It’s habit. That’s all. My hand just keeps reaching for it.”She poured more coffee and sat across from me. “Has he sent anything at all? Even through someone else?”“No. Just the lawyers. Polite. Efficient. They want a temporary address for formal correspondence. They said Mr. Voss prefers to

Elena’s povThe conference room was smaller than I expected. Pale walls, a long table, a water pitcher no one had touched. Mom sat beside me with her hands folded in her lap. Across from us were two lawyers in dark suits, one for his side, one who had been assigned to walk me through the final documents. Alexander was not there. I hadn’t expected him to be, but the empty chair still felt deliberate.The lawyer on his side slid a thin folder across the table.“These are the final dissolution papers,” she said. “Everything has been agreed upon as outlined in the previous correspondence. No contest. No additional claims. Once signed, the process moves to formal filing.”I opened the folder. The language was clean and empty. Names. Dates. A statement that both parties consented to the end of the marriage. The wedding date looked strange on the page, like it belonged to someone else entirely.Mom leaned slightly closer. “You can take your time reading.”“I’ve read the drafts,” I said. “I

Elena’s povI told Mom at breakfast that I was going back to work.She set her mug down and looked at me over the rim. “Are you sure you’re ready?”“No,” I said. “But I can’t keep sitting in this apartment waiting for the next email or the next quiet hour to feel less heavy. I need a schedule that belongs to me. Something that starts in the morning and ends in the evening and has nothing to do with him.”Mom studied my face for a moment. “You’ve only been home a little over a week. No one would blame you for taking more time.”“I know. And if I stay here much longer I’m going to start measuring every day by how little I heard from him. I don’t want that to be the shape of my time. I need something that doesn’t revolve around silence.”She nodded slowly. “All right. Do you want me to drive you in?”“I’ll take the train. I need to do the ordinary things the ordinary way. If I let you drive me it still feels like I’m being handled. I need to handle this part myself.”“Fair enough,” she