Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back) novel Chapter 112

112

THE office was as sharp and immaculate as the man himself. Adrian. Morning sunlight spilled through the tall glass windows, reflecting off polished mahogany shelves stacked with business portfolios and signed contracts. He leaned back in his leather chair, his suit jacket off, the sleeves of his shirt rolled just above his wrists, and his mind not entirely on the spreadsheets before him.

Peter, ever efficient, stood across the desk, tablet in hand.

“If you want, we can secure these collaborations through the board, sir. But you have been unusually… specific about who you want sitting at the same table with you.”

Adrian swirled the wine-red tie draped across his fingers before slipping it neatly into his drawer. His voice was low, deliberate.

“That is because I don’t want random faces, Peter. I want Amelia Cole. I want my wife. And if I can’t get her directly, then I will pull her company into partnerships she can’t refuse.”

Peter tilted his head slightly, catching the undercurrent in his boss’s words. He wasn’t oblivious to the personal war beneath the professional calm.

“You want Amelia in the room.”

Adrian’s gaze hardened for a moment before softening into something far more vulnerable.

“I don’t just want her in the room, Peter. I want her reminded of who I am. Of who we were. And of who I am now.”

Before Peter could respond, the glass door opened without a knock, that was a bold move for anyone who knew Adrian Cole well. A tall brunette, sultry in a crimson bodycon dress that clung too deliberately to every curve, strutted in as if she owned the place.

“Adrian,” she purred, her perfume wafting through the office with suffocating sweetness. “Finally. I thought you were ignoring me on purpose.” She leaned against the edge of his desk, deliberately close, her red lips curving into a smile. “You have been avoiding my calls. My texts. So, I came myself.”

Peter stiffened, his hand tightening around the tablet. But Adrian only leaned back in his chair, unimpressed, his expression icy.

“Miss Lane,” Adrian said, his voice cutting clean through her act. “You have mistaken me for the man I used to be.”

She blinked, tilting her head.

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