All Chapters of The Billionaire’s Regret: Too Late to Love: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Chris was in her old office.Not Allen’s, not the new polished executive floor with glass walls and curated art. The smaller one. The one Mia had insisted on keeping when the company first outgrew its first building. The one with the scuffed corner of the desk where she used to tap her ring when she was thinking.He stood by the window now, sleeves rolled, jaw tight.Allen stood across from him like he owned the air. Which, technically, he did.The board had just left. The door hadn’t fully latched behind them. Their whispers still lingered in the hallway.Chris broke the silence first. “You moved everything?”Allen adjusted his cufflinks slowly, unbothered. “I stabilized it.”“You buried it under a shell.”Allen’s eyes flicked up. “Hale Tower operates under Hale Global Holdings now.”Chris let out a humorless breath. “You created a parent company.”“Yes.”“When?”“Six months after her funeral.”Chris’s hands curled into fists before he could stop them. “You didn’t even wait a year.”

Chris didn’t go home, he slept over. He was still beside her, but he was half asleep. Morning light barely touched the curtains when her phone started vibrating on the nightstand. It kept vibrating again and again. Mia groaned and rolled over. “Who’s dying at six a.m.?” she muttered. Chris shifted, half asleep. “Ignore it.” But it didn’t stop. She reached for the phone. The brightness stabbed her eyes. Three missed calls. Two emails. Eight notifications. Her thumb hovered. Then she opened the first alert. And everything inside her went cold. MIA HALE ALIVE — QUESTIONS RISE OVER HALE TOWER LEGALITY She didn’t blink, she didn’t breathe. Chris pushed up on one elbow. “What?” She handed him the phone. He squinted at it. Then sat up fully. “What the hell?” His voice was sharp and fully awake now. He scrolled; there was a picture of her at the airport. The unexpected reappearance of Mia Hale raises questions regarding the legality of the recent restructurin

Chris didn’t knock the first time. He just stood outside Mia’s door with his hand lifted, listening. Inside, he could hear the twins laughing. One of them squealed — that sharp, breathless toddler sound that always felt like a small miracle. Something light. Something untouched by board votes and access suspensions. He knocked then. The door opened almost immediately. Elizabeth stood there, flour on her hands, eyes searching his face before she even said hello. “She’s in the living room,” she said quietly. He stepped inside. Mia was sitting on the floor in the middle of scattered blocks and a half-built tower. One twin was leaning against her knee, the other trying to stack something that kept falling apart. Mia was smiling. She looked… contained. When she saw Chris, something in her shoulders shifted. “You’re back early.” He didn’t answer right away. She read his silence before he spoke. “Elizabeth,” she called gently, not looking away from him. “Can you take them

The next morning, Mia stood in her kitchen staring at her phone. Chris’s last message was still there. Don’t go to Hale Tower. Please. Let this cool down. She pressed her lips together and locked the screen. Let it cool down, like this was a fever. Like she hadn’t given half of her life to that building. The kettle clicked off behind her. She didn’t pour the water. She grabbed her bag instead. By the time she stepped out of the cab in front of Hale Tower, her pulse had settled into something steady. A decision has already been made. The glass building rose before her, cold and reflective, its company logo gleaming in the morning light. She’d walked through those doors almost every day for years. Sometimes exhausted, sometimes proud, sometimes furious. She pushed through the revolving doors. The lobby smelled the same—polished marble and expensive air freshener. The receptionist at the front desk looked up, startled. “Mrs. Hale—” “Morning,” Mia said, not slowing.

Mia’s apartment felt smaller than usual.The furniture was still the same. The lamp in the corner still cast its soft, useless glow. The twins’ toys were scattered near the coffee table, small reminders of noise and movement.But the air was tight. Like it was waiting.Chris stood near the window, hands in his pockets. He had been there for ten minutes without speaking.Maya sat on the sofa, legal documents spread across the table. Neat and organized. Cold in the way paperwork always was.Mia leaned against the kitchen counter, arms folded.“Say it,” she finally said.Maya looked up. “Allen anticipates you.”Mia didn’t move.Chris exhaled softly. “That doesn’t mean someone is feeding him information.”Maya’s gaze shifted to him. “It means he’s reacting before we act.”Mia laughed without humor. “That’s the same thing.”“No,” Maya corrected. “It means he has visibility.”Mia’s brows drew together. “Visibility?”“Yes.”She straightened. “Into what?”Maya hesitated.Mia’s eyes sharpened.