Mr Billionaire's Regret Chasing His Irresistible Wife (Jared and Arielle) novel Chapter 200

(ARIELLE'S POV)

I pushed open the door to my office, and as usual, the feeling of anticipation I always receive whenever I arrive in it enveloped me. It was a new day, and I was looking forward to the activities it had in stock.

But as I strode inside, my eyes landed on what had come to be a familiar sight—a bouquet of lavender flowers sitting on my work desk.

I let out a deep sigh of resignation, already privy to who it came from.

"Does he ever give up?" I mumbled under my breath.

Three days. It had been three relentless days of this floral assault ever since Jared decided that declaring his undying love meant bombarding me with lavenders, of all things.

On day one, I’d been caught off guard. Seeing the delicate blooms nestled in a pristine white basket, tied up with a satin ribbon, had frozen me in my tracks. For a split second, I’d almost let myself feel… something. But then Rebecca had walked in, her face lighting up like Christmas morning.

“Aren’t you touched?” she’d asked, practically swooning. “Lavenders aren’t easy to get this time of year. And coming from the Almighty Jared Smith? That’s effort.”

I stared at her, utterly speechless in a way. “Touched? Rebecca, honey, this is a restaurant, not a botanical garden. Do you have any idea how this overpowering fragrance could ruin the dining experience? Not everyone loves flowers.”

She’d blinked at me, clearly unsure whether I was serious or just heartless. Before she could respond, Stephen had strolled in, his sharp eyes instantly landing on the basket.

“Whoa. Someone’s laying it on thick,” he’d whistled, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

Rebecca and I had exchanged a glance, then turned to him in unison. “What do you suggest?”

Stephen had shrugged, his grin widening. “Easy. Let’s make it a win-win. Split the bouquets and give them out to the guests as they leave. Everyone loves free flowers, right?”

It was one of those moments where you couldn’t help but appreciate the younger mind and the simplicity of a good idea.

Within minutes, the basket was dismantled, the flowers redistributed, and our guests beaming as they walked out with their fragrant souvenirs.

When Jared had walked into the restaurant an hour later, he’d been greeted by the sight of a queue of diners, each clutching a bouquet of his carefully chosen lavenders.

Our eyes met, and he glared at me both aggressively and in disbelief. But I averted my gaze, suppressing my smile and completely ignoring him.

I’d hoped that little stunt would send a clear message: stop. But apparently, subtlety wasn’t Jared’s strong suit. Because the next morning? Another basket. And now, here we were, round three.