Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back) のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 181 - チャプター 190

ADRIAN was seated in his study, the soft glow from his laptop screen reflecting against his glasses as he scrolled through emails and documents, occasionally pausing to type a response. The room was quiet, filled only with the faint hum of the air conditioner and the ticking wall clock. Across the wide wooden table sat Hazel, her legs crossed neatly beneath the chair. She alternated between scrolling on her phone and jotting things down in a notepad spread open in front of her, her pen moving with purpose as if she were organizing thoughts only she understood.The calm was shattered when the door burst open.“Daddy! Daddy!” Gabriel’s voice rang out as he sprinted into the room, breathless and excited. In his hands was a small pink Barbie doll and a matching pink comb, both clutched tightly as though they were treasures he had just discovered.Adrian looked up sharply.His eyes dropped to the items in the boy’s hands, and for a brief second, his fingers froze above the keyboard. Somethi

TIANA let out a long, exasperated sigh, stepping away from the desk as Shantel advanced toward her, the air between them thick with tension.“Shantel,” Tiana began again, her voice steady but tinged with frustration, “what is this? I thought we had passed this. I thought you had moved on.”Shantel frowned, tilting her head slightly. “What are you doing in my room again?” she asked, crossing her arms.“That is not the question, sis,” Tiana said firmly, shaking her head. “You really shouldn’t be doing this. Not now. Not ever.”“Doing what?” Shantel asked innocently, though the sharpness in her tone betrayed her.“This,” Tiana said, gesturing to the desk, the laptop, the magazines, the scraps of paper plastered with Amelia’s face. “Are you… stalking her now? Studying her every move?”Shantel’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Stalking? Tiana, you are exaggerating. I’m… I’m just looking. Researching. That is all.”“Researching what?” Tiana countered, stepping closer. “Amelia’s life? Her

FIONA stood behind Vivian, carefully adjusting the final strap of her dress, her fingers precise and gentle. The room smelled faintly of perfume and hair spray, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm sheen over Vivian’s reflection in the mirror. Vivian stood still, her hands clasped nervously in front of her, her heart thudding harder with every second that passed.“You look… insane,” Fiona said finally, stepping back to admire her work. “Like the kind of woman men write poems about and lose sleep over.”Vivian laughed softly, her cheeks already warming. “Stop it. You are making me more nervous than I already am.”Fiona grinned. “As you should be. This is your first date with a man who has been melting over your voice for weeks.”Vivian took a deep breath and looked at herself. The dress hugged her perfectly, elegant without trying too hard, simple but breathtaking. Her hair fell effortlessly around her shoulders, and her makeup was subtle, enhancing rather than hiding. She barely

NIGHT had settled fully over the house, wrapping it in a quiet that felt heavier than usual. Amelia sat on the edge of her dresser, her body angled toward the mirror, her eyes fixed on her own reflection. The soft glow from the bedside lamp illuminated her face, highlighting the faint lines of worry etched across her forehead.She barely recognized the woman staring back at her.Her thoughts drifted, unbidden, to Hazel.When had it started? When had her once gentle, affectionate daughter who used to curl up beside her on the couch and chatter endlessly begun to harden this way? The sharp words. The hostility. The defiance that seemed to flare up whenever Charles so much as breathed in her direction. It frightened Amelia more than she cared to admit.At first she had dismissed it as normal teenagers initial refusal, but now, it was clear to her that it wasn't, it was more than that.She sighed, resting her elbows on her thighs.Charles.For the life of her, she could not understand it.

AMELIA didn’t return to the office immediately after leaving the café. She instead asked the chauffeur to take the longer route, the one that wound through the quieter part of the city, where traffic thinned and her thoughts could stretch without interruption. They were headed to the boutique. She sat back, her face composed, her posture relaxed, anyone watching her would casually think it had been just another pleasant afternoon for her.But inside, every word Shantel had spoken replayed with surgical clarity.By the time the car pulled into the parking lot of her boutique building, Amelia had already sorted what mattered from what didn’t. She alighted and briskly walked straight to her office, nonchalantly responding to her staff's greetings over her shoulder.Ryan was waiting.He always was these days.He stood when she walked in, tablet tucked under his arm, his expression neutral but attentive. Ryan had worked with Amelia long enough to recognize the difference between her calm m