Mr Billionaire's Regret Chasing His Irresistible Wife (Jared and Arielle) novel Chapter 164

(JARED’S POV.)

I stood with one foot perched on the first of the short flight of steps leading up to Arielle’s front porch. It felt like the door had hit me right in the face. And the blood vessels on my skin seemed very willing to visibly portray my embarrassment. And it had to be his fault.

Dwayne.

I had just known about him a few hours ago, and he was already being a thorn in my flesh.

I turned around hotly on my heels and marched towards him.

“Now you see what you’ve done? All you had to do was get away from us, disappear from our lives, but no, you’re so jealous you won’t grow a brain!” I yelled in fury.

But he didn’t answer. As soon as Arielle was out of sight, he fell silent, expressionless. The black suit he wore seemed to blend into the night, as though he was part of the shadows. The cold, intimidating presence I had felt at the dinner table returned, suffocating the air between us.

What the hell is wrong with this man? Was he acting all this long drive? For what? To make Arielle happy? I felt my anger boiling like I was being teased as a fool.

“Speak up, damn it!” I hissed, my voice sharp with fury. “Who the hell are you? How did you get into my family? What do you know about us?”

His reply was cold, too composed for my liking. “Don’t put this on me, Jared. She’s pissed because of you. You treated her wrong, made mistakes that cannot be forgiven. Don’t act like you own her. She’s not anyone’s property. And if you ask me, the only thing she deserves is better than what you gave her.”

I saw red. My blood was boiling, and I was about ready to punch something, preferably his smug face. He wasn’t answering a single one of my questions!

“Don’t you dare talk about her like that!” I spat. “She’s the mother of my son. It’s you who needs to stay the hell away.”

He gave me a look that was a strange mix of amusement and irritation, as though I were a child throwing a tantrum. “Look, baby brother—”

“We’re not brothers! I don’t bloody know you from anywhere,” I cut him short.

He let out a sharp laugh. “You think I want to be your brother? Become a Smith? Hell no. Here’s how this is going to play out. You go back to your mother, and I’ll head back to my hotel. My business is with Nana Jean and Arielle, not you.”

“If you say her name one more time..,” I said through gritted teeth.

Dwayne smiled, lips curling into a mocking grin. “What, are you jealous I know her better than you? Does it make you feel small, knowing your ex-wife is closer to me than you?”

I could hear the taunt in his voice and it worsened my already pent up anger.

“Look. I just need you out of our lives. What would that cost?” I asked.

Dwayne’s grin only widened. “How about this,” he said, a devil-may-care gleam in his eye. “Let’s go have a drink. We’ll talk about it, huh? What do you say?”

I narrowed my eyes at him and gritted my teeth in contemplation before letting out an exasperated sigh.

He raised an eyebrow and turned to lead the way out of Arielle’s block.

I turned back to look at the windows, nursing the slightest hope that I would find someone looking down onto the street. I let out a defeated sigh and set my jaw in distaste as I turned to follow Dwayne.

For someone who had just entered our lives, Dwayne seemed oddly familiar with everything around him. He moved through the bar with the ease of someone who’d been here a hundred times before, making me wonder how long he’d been monitoring Arielle without me knowing. That thought churned uneasily in my gut.

We made our way to a high-end bar a few streets away from Arielle’s place. I slid onto a high stool beside Dwayne at the counter, watching him signal the bartender as if he owned the place. My gaze flickered suspiciously to the bartender—was he another one of Dwayne's eyes and ears?

“Evening, gentlemen,” he nodded professionally at us. “What would you be drinking tonight?”

“Scotch neat,” Dwayne answered and turned to me.

“Just a beer,” I answered. I had to keep myself as sober as possible to have a reasonable conversation with the man.

“Suit yourself then,” Dwayne shrugged.

I studied him, trying to figure out what made him tick. He wasn’t like me. There was no heat in his voice, no rawness in his eyes. He was cool, collected—too damn calm for my liking. He was already texting someone as we waited for our drinks, like this whole encounter was nothing more than a casual chat.

“How do you know Arielle so well?” I finally blurted out my thoughts. I had not meant for the words to stumble out that way. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of pride he wanted.

“You wanted to know how much it would cost to keep me out of your lives,” he said, not even looking up from his phone.

I cocked my head to the side, keeping my face as firm as possible so he got the hint that I was not having the conversation on his terms.