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

THE text was short. Too short.

No greeting. No emojis. No pleasantries. Just one line. And the sender’s name sitting boldly above it.

Shantel.

Amelia read it once. Then again. The words didn’t change, neither did they soften. They didn’t reinterpret themselves into something harmless.

They remained exactly what they were.

Brief, calculated and shocking.

Across from her, Ryan had already stood up. He knew that look. He had seen Amelia under pressure, during negotiations, during crises, during last-minute legal twists. She didn’t freeze. She adapted.

But this? This was different.

“Amelia?” he called gently at first.

No response.

Her eyes were still locked on the screen, but she wasn’t blinking.

“Is everything okay?”

Silence again.

“What’s up?” he pressed, taking a cautious step forward. “What was that?”

She inhaled slowly. But no words came out.

Ryan’s anxiety rose immediately. He had worked with her long enough to know that silence from Amelia wasn’t weakness. It was always calculation.

But this silence didn’t feel calculated. It felt… struck.

“Amelia?” he asked again, his voice firmer now. “Talk to me.”

Her fingers loosened, and the phone slipped from her hand.

It didn’t crash loudly, no, just a soft, controlled drop onto the polished desk surface. That sound echoed louder than it should have.

Amelia slowly turned her head toward him. Her face was composed. Too composed. But her eyes—

There was something storming behind them.

She didn’t speak. She didn’t explain. She simply looked at him for a brief second. Then looked away.

Ryan’s heartbeat quickened. He quickly moved around the desk, picking up the phone with hurried hands.

“Boss,—”

His eyes dropped to the screen. He read the message. His brows furrowed instantly, then lifted. His lips parted slightly as his gaze ran through the single line again. Anxiety spread across his face in real time.

“What…” he breathed and turned slowly toward Amelia.

She had lowered her head onto the desk.

Not dramatically.

Not in collapse.

Just resting there.

Still.

Quiet.

As if steadying herself.

Ryan swallowed.

The air in the office felt heavier now.

The confidence from moments ago had evaporated completely.

He looked back at the screen once more.

Then at his boss.

His grip on the phone tightened slightly.

“Boss…” he said, voice no longer casual.

But she didn’t lift her head.

And the silence that followed felt far more dangerous than the message itself.

***

The drive over had felt suffocating.

Charles had left the bar almost immediately after Amelia’s call. She hadn’t screamed. She hadn’t accused. She hadn’t even explained.

Her voice had been steady. Too steady.

“Come over,” she had said.

And then the line went dead.

Then he lowered his gaze to the screen.

The words were right there. Standing firm in his face. His eyes moved across the lines once. Then again. And his stomach dropped. The air seemed to thin around him. He froze.

His hands began to shake so violently that the phone almost slipped from his grip. He adjusted his hold just in time, but the tremor didn’t stop.

He read it again. And this time, it felt heavier. He slowly lifted his eyes to look at her. She was watching him. Her head tilted slightly.

“Okay?” she mouthed.

His lips parted.

Nothing came out.

“Um… Amelia I— it’s not— I—”

The words tangled.

His mind scrambled for an explanation, a defense, anything that could reshape what was sitting boldly on that screen.

“I thought as much,” she said coldly, snapping the phone out of his trembling hands.

The sudden movement made him flinch.

“Cat caught your tongue?” she asked, her voice low but cutting.

He ran a hand through his hair, pacing a step back.

“Oh my God!” he burst out. “Amelia this… this isn’t true.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

“Isn’t true?” she repeated.

“Yes! It’s— it’s not what it looks like.”

She let out a sharp, humorless breath.

“Come on,” she said, holding the phone up slightly as if the evidence needed no narration. “Your ex-girlfriend sent me this!”

He swallowed hard.

“The mother of your daughter,” she added, her voice tightening just enough to expose the crack beneath her composure.

He stared at her, his chest rising and falling unevenly.

“Or what?” she pressed, stepping closer. “You want to deny your daughter?” She asked.