All Chapters of Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back): Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

IN the car, Adrian had just pulled up in front of Vivian’s apartment. Both of them were tipsy, their laughter breaking into soft sighs as the exhaustion of the night weighed on them. Adrian gripped the wheel tighter, blinking hard to stay awake.Vivian leaned her head back against the seat, exhaling deeply.“God… I haven’t had such a good dance in forever. That was wild,” she said.Adrian chuckled, his words slurred slightly.“I know right? Drinks, music, the vibes… it was all perfect.”Vivian turned toward him, her eyes sparkling despite the tiredness.“Perfect because you were there.”Adrian gave her a lazy grin, then yawned.“Yeah, but now I’m completely drained. I need some serious rest.”Vivian immediately perked up.“So, that is why you should come in and rest. Just crash here for a bit.”Adrian shook his head slowly, fighting his heavy eyelids.“Nah, I promised to be home early. Hazel’s award ceremony is at nine, and Amelia would murder me if I don’t show up.”At the mention of

VIVIAN’S wicked smile lingered on her face long after Adrian stormed out of the room. With a swift motion, she tossed the duvet off her body, stretching languidly before striding naked into the bathroom. The cold tiles greeted her feet, and within seconds, the sound of running water filled the air. She tilted her head back under the shower, letting the water cascade over her, washing off the sweat and faint smell of alcohol from the night before.Her body relaxed, but her mind was buzzing with satisfaction. Adrian had panicked exactly the way she wanted, exactly the way she had envisioned. She let out a chuckle, shaking her head beneath the water stream.After several minutes, Vivian emerged from the bathroom, steam rolling out behind her as though announcing her entrance. She wrapped a towel lazily around her body, humming as she walked to her vanity. Sitting down, she began brushing her hair, applying lotion with deliberate care, then picked out a chic jumpsuit from her wardrobe. By

ADRIAN walked out of his office and into the lounge, his steps dragging as though his shoes were weighted down. In his hand was a half-finished glass of red wine. It had been two days since the disaster of Hazel’s award ceremony, and Amelia, typical Amelia— was still mad at him. More than mad, she had gone silent, shutting him out completely. Adrian had lived long enough with her to know that silence was worse than her shouting. Silence meant she had given up on words, and that was far heavier than anger.He dropped himself onto one of the lounge couches, setting the glass on the table in front of him. His eyes lingered on the swirls of the wine as if it could give him answers.He really was sorry. He wasn’t faking it, not this time. He knew he had promised his little girl, knew he had sworn to Amelia that he would be there, but Vivian had pulled him into one of those traps of hers and he had fallen asleep, only to wake up at afternoon. How could he even face Hazel again? The look on

ADRIAN lay on the plush couch in Vivian’s sitting room, his arm draped over his eyes, his mind heavy with a storm of thoughts. The evening had started with laughter and drinks at his office, his friends had filled the air with noise, banter, and alcohol. But when the noise died and the last glass was emptied, loneliness crept in again. After clearing a few documents from his desk, instead of heading home, he found himself driving to Vivian’s apartment.He had arrived about an hour ago. Vivian, ever quick to read him, had taken one look at his face and known exactly what he wanted, it was not words, not explanations, but comfort. Without a word, she disappeared into the kitchen, and the sounds of sizzling oil and clattering utensils soon followed.Now, the smell of fried plantains and roasted chicken wafted into the living room, rich and inviting, mingling with the faint scent of her vanilla-scented candles.Adrian’s eyes were still closed when Vivian stepped out, a tray in her hands.

CLARA sighed heavily, her shopping bag dangling loosely from her wrist as she halted in her tracks. Amelia, already sensing something at alert, had stopped walking too, staring at her friend with wide, expectant eyes.Then Clara spilled it.“Well… according to Leonard,” she began, her voice a notch lower, “he said Adrian has a girlfriend that he has been keeping for three years now. Like his… mistress.”Amelia’s breath caught in her throat. The bustling noise of the mall, the chatter of shoppers, the hum of background music, even the occasional squeals of excited children, all faded into a blur of silence. All she could hear was Clara’s words echoing in her head. Mistress. Three years.Her lips trembled, but not a word came out. She stood rooted to the tiled floor, gripping the handle of her handbag so tightly her knuckles whitened.Clara, uncomfortable with the silence, added softly, “Her name is Vivian. And she and Adrian… have been seeing each other. For quite a while now. So, Leon