Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back) novel Chapter 109

109

THE world seemed to tilt when Amelia’s eyes locked with his.

“Adrian…” The name slipped past her lips before she could swallow it down. It gushed out.

His presence overwhelmed her senses, it always did. Tall, broad-shouldered, every inch of him wrapped in authority. He wore a tuxedo tailored to perfection, his cologne subtle yet commanding, the kind that lingered long after he was gone. And now, he stood there, blocking her way out of the corridor, the faintest flicker of surprise in his eyes quickly masked by something deeper.

“Amelia,” he said quietly, as if tasting her name after months of thirst. His voice was smooth, carrying a weight that made her knees falter.

Her clutch trembled slightly in her grip. Why was he always bumping into her?

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice steadier than she felt.

Adrian’s lips curved into a half-smile, though his eyes betrayed him, they were stormy and searching.

“You knew I would be here. Or at least,” he tilted his head slightly, “you should have expected it. These galas thrive on reputation. And mine hasn’t changed.”

She let out a small scoff.

“I didn’t know… you would be here,” she scoffed again, “always the arrogant one.”

“Or always the truthful one,” he countered softly, his gaze not wavering.

The corridor stretched silent except for the faint hum of music drifting from the hall. Amelia tried to sidestep him, but Adrian moved with her, his presence blocking the way.

“I don’t have time for this,” she muttered.

“Then make time,” he said, firmer now, though low, as if restraining himself. His eyes softened, tracing her face in a way that unnerved her. “Since you have been giving me cold receptions, I have waited too long to only bump into you by chance and let you walk away again.”

Her breath hitched, her lips parting to respond, but he continued before she could speak.

“Why do you keep pushing me out of your world?” he asked. “Isn’t it enough that fate keeps pulling us back into the same spaces? Or do you think you can outrun me forever?”

Amelia swallowed, anger flaring to mask the rising ache in her chest. Was he mad?

“Don’t twist this into fate. It is not fate, Adrian, it is you. You are the one showing up everywhere. My boutique. My flower shop. Now here. Do you think this is some game?”

His jaw clenched. He leaned slightly closer, not touching her, but close enough that the air between them thickened.

“No game, Amelia. This is me fighting for what I lost. For what I let slip away.”

Her pulse thundered. Her voice, sharp yet trembling, came out before she could stop it.

“You can’t just appear and expect me to-”

“Expect you to what?” Adrian cut in, his voice low, almost pained. “To remember? To forgive? To see that I’m not

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the man who let you go? Because, Amelia, I am not him anymore.”

Her breath caught. For the briefest second, she saw the crack in his armor, the plea in his eyes he tried to bury.

And then-

“Amelia.”

The voice broke through like ice water.

She turned sharply. Ryan stood there at the end of the corridor, his tall frame taut with tension, his fists curling and uncurling at his sides. His sharp tuxedo matched his controlled demeanor, but his stormy and dark eyes were locked on Adrian with unmistakable fire.

“So,” Adrian whispered as he turned to her, “he now calls you by your name, huh?” He asked softly and Amelia rolled her eyes.

Adrian straightened slowly, his expression shifting into something colder, almost smug, as he acknowledged Ryan.

“Well,” he murmured, “speak of the guardian.’

”

Ryan strode closer, his arm brushing Amelia’s protectively as he reached her side.

“What is going on here?” His voice was low, measured, but the undertone of jealousy cracked through.

Amelia opened her mouth, but Adrian spoke first.

“So, you now address your boss by her name?” he asked, looking straight at him.

Ryan’s jaw tightened.

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