Mr Billionaire's Regret Chasing His Irresistible Wife (Jared and Arielle) novel Chapter 22

(Jared's POV)

“Jared, where the hell are you? Sofia just called me. She's in pain, her stomach is hurting…”

I froze at my mother's words, as shivers ran down my spine. I didn't realize when an exclamation left my mouth. “What?”

“You have to leave wherever you are, and whatever you're doing and go home! Nothing must happen to–”

That was all I heard as I dropped the call. I was immediately thrown into a state of panic, as I scrambled to gather my clothes on the floor.

“What's wrong?” Arielle’s voice sounded behind me. I hadn't realized when she left the bed. My mind was filled and racing with worst–case scenarios.

“You're making me scared. What happened? Who was on the phone?” Arielle's voice broke into my thoughts again. This time, she was now standing in front of me, her face filled with worry.

I tried to speak, but my words were jumbled. “Sofia…my mother called…she's in pain. Her stomach hurts.”

Arielle's eyes widened in alarm. “What's happening to her?’

I shook my head, my heart racing.”I have no idea. I have to go and find out. I have to go back home."

“That's right. In that case, I'll come with you–”

I shook my head, hands shaking as I finished dressing. “No, stay here. I'll handle it…”

And without waiting for a response, I grabbed my car key and rushed out of the room. I ignored the elevator, and opted for the stairs, taking it two at a time.

My heart thudded in my chest as I got to my car and sped into the highway. I navigated the road, not caring about traffic or police. All I wanted was to get to Sofia as soon as possible, no matter what it took.

As I drove, guilt gnawed at me with every mile. I shouldn't have left her alone in the first place. I should have listened to her, and brought her along. Now she was in danger, and it was all my fault.

At some point, Traffic became tight at a major junction and I was tempted to swear at the sluggish driver ahead of me. My hands on the steering wheel tightened, as I kept muttering, “God, nothing should happen to her.”

The traffic soon cleared, and I overtook the driver ahead of me, missing his car bonnet by a swerve. I heard him cuss at me, but I ignored as he was the least of my problems right now.

I soon arrived home, and without parking in the garage, or turning off the car's ignition, I hopped out and dashed into the house like a bulldog.

I burst through the front door, dashing into the hallway, and screaming “Sofia!” at the top of my lungs. As I neared the sitting room, I heard her voice call out, “over here.”

For a fleeting moment, I felt relieved that she could at least talk and tell me where in the house she was. Then I hastened my pace, my heart still racing with fear. I approached the sitting room, my mind prepared for the worst. But what I saw stopped me dead in my tracks.

Sofia was seated on the couch, legs spread apart, a bowl of popcorn settled between them. Food crumbs littered the couch and floor. And to my utter surprise, Sofia looked perfectly fine –no trace of illness or pain in her expression.

I stood rooted to the spot, mouth agape, unable to process the sight before me.

“Hi, Jared. You're here,” Sofia called out, an innocent smile on her face.

I couldn't respond. I just kept staring at her intently, trying to wrap my head around the scene before me. Where was the pain? The distress? The emergency that required my urgent attention?

My eyes dimmed, confusion, and anger beginning to grow inside of me. What was going on? Didn't mother say she was in pain?

“What's going on, Sofia?” I stuttered, finally finding my voice.