Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back) novel Chapter 115

“THE Cole’s mansion?” Charles repeated faintly, as if the words refused to register properly in his brain.

Shantel crossed her arms, watching the shock spread across his face.

“Yes. The Cole’s mansion.”

He let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “How?”

“That is what I just told you.”

“No,” he snapped, shaking his head. “No, you don’t get to just say that and expect me to digest it. Are you being serious right now? Do you even understand the gravity of what you are saying?”

She rolled her eyes.

“That is the ex-husband of my fiancée!” he thundered.

At that, Shantel scoffed loudly.

“Your fiancée indeed,” she mocked. “I don’t think she will still be by the time I’m done with this.”

Charles’ expression darkened dangerously.

“Can you stop this, Shantel?” he demanded. “What exactly do you stand to gain from all these?”

She tilted her head, studying him, then chuckled softly.

“A lot, my love.”

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped immediately.

She ignored him.

“You think I did all this for nothing?” she continued. “You think I would go through the stress of tracing a child I abandoned just to play games?”

He stared at her in disgust.

“Well, I don’t believe you,” he said flatly. “How did you even get to know Sunshine is there? Have you seen her? Does she even know she has a mother like you?”

That question lingered heavier than the others. For a brief second, something unreadable flickered in Shantel’s eyes. Then she sighed dramatically and sank into a chair.

“The thing is,” she began slowly, “after using so many tactics I could to get you back to myself… to end you and that hag you call a fiancée… and none was working…”

Charles clenched his fists.

“I had to switch to something stronger,” she continued calmly. “Something more significant. Something I could hold onto.”

He swallowed hard.

“Our daughter.”

The words hit like a hammer.

“Remembering where I last dropped her,” Shantel went on, almost casually, “I went back to that neighborhood. I made enquiries. Asked around. It wasn’t easy.”

“You had the audacity to go back there?” Charles muttered.

She ignored him again.

“That was when I discovered the elderly man who had taken her in,” she said. “George.”

Charles frowned. “George?”

“Yes. Apparently, he found her that night. Took her inside. Raised her.”

Charles felt both relief and rage collide inside him.

“So she didn’t grow up on the streets,” he whispered faintly.

“No,” Shantel admitted. “She didn’t.”

“And then?”

“And then,” she continued, leaning forward, “I found out that George later got a job. A stable one. As a butler.”

Charles’ chest tightened.

“At the Cole’s mansion,” she finished with deliberate emphasis.

Silence.

“So George moved into the mansion,” she said. “And of course, he moved in with Sunshine.”

Charles stared at her, stunned beyond measure.

“So you are telling me… my daughter… has been living under Adrian’s roof?”

“Yes.”

The irony was too cruel.

Too twisted.

He dragged a hand down his face.

“And you found all this out months ago?” he asked slowly.

She nodded.

“And instead of coming to me like a sane person—”

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