Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back) novel Chapter 132

AMELIA had not slept well. Anyone who knew her well enough could see it— not in dark circles or disheveled hair, because she had taken care of both before leaving the house, but in the stiffness of her movement and the plastic smile she wore. It was like she was holding herself back from a lot of things.

She was already in her office when Ryan arrived. He found her staring at her laptop screen with her coffee going cold beside her hand.

"You came in early," he said, closing the door behind him.

"I needed something to do," she replied without looking up.

He sat across from her and studied her for a moment.

"How was Saturday? Your brother came with his girlfriend, right?"

Amelia looked up slowly. She held his gaze for a second, then let out a short breath that wasn't quite a laugh.

"Yes," she said. "He came."

Ryan's brows lifted slightly.

"Now that doesn't sound like it went well."

"That would be an understatement."

Ryan was sat! He made his way to the seat across from her and sat down, leaning towards Amelia.

"What happened?"

She leaned back in her chair, folding her hands on the desk.

"The girl Valentine brought to my house," she began slowly, "the one he has been dating, the one he was so excited for me to meet—" She paused. "Her name is Vivian."

Ryan stared at her.

"Vivian?"

"Yes."

"As in... The Vivian?"

"Yes," Amelia said quietly. "That Vivian. The same one."

Ryan sat back in his chair like the air had been let out of him.

"Oh my God," he breathed. "Are you serious?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Amelia raised a tired brow at him.

"Amelia." He dragged a hand over his face. "How— how is that even possible? Of all the people in this city, of all the women Valentine could have—"

"I know," she said calmly and pinched the space between her brows.

"Did she know? I mean, did she know he was your cousin when they started dating?"

"I don't really know but, I think she doesn't," Amelia said. The flatness in her voice was more unsettling than anger would have been. "The moment she saw me at the door, she froze and then she ran. She took the car keys from Valentine and drove off before anyone could say a word." She tilted her head slightly.

Ryan was quiet for a moment, just absorbing it.

"And Valentine?"

Amelia's expression shifted into something softer and more pained.

"He was confused at first. He chased after her, she drove off, and then he came back inside and I told him everything." She exhaled slowly. "You should have seen his face, Ryan. He looked like someone had knocked the floor out from under him. He genuinely loved her."

"How is he now?"

"Combined? That will be just under four thousand dollars."

She set the pen down very carefully on the desk, pressing her palms to her face.

"Keep investigating," she said. "I want everything. Dates, locations, who he was with. Every single detail."

"Already on it," Ryan said. "I should have the full picture by this afternoon."

She nodded. Then she closed the laptop, picked up her bag from the back of her chair, and stood.

Ryan blinked in surprise.

"Where are you going?"

"Home," she said simply. "I can't be here today. Handle whatever comes up."

"Amelia—"

"Ryan." She looked at him, and for just a moment, the composure slipped enough for him to see what was underneath it. "I have just found out that the woman who destroyed my marriage is dating my cousin, and that my fiancé has been stealing from my company." She picked up her phone. "I need to go home before I lose my mind. I trust you to handle things here until I get myself together."

She walked to the door, then stopped with her hand on the frame.

"And Ryan," she said without turning around.

"Yes?"

"Don't call me unless the building is on fire."

She walked out without looking back, and Ryan was both happy and sad. Happy that his boss was able to find control and balance through the issues she was going through, and sad that she had to go through them in the first place. Ryan sat in the empty office for a long moment, staring at the door she had just walked through.

Then he looked down at the tablet in his hand, at Charles's number sitting boldly in that transaction record, and shook his head slowly. He picked up his phone and began to dig deeper. What he found twenty minutes later made him put the phone down and stare at the wall, because the hotel booking wasn't a solo reservation. It was a booking for two.