Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back) novel Chapter 30

CHARLES tilted his head slightly, studying her face as though measuring how far he could go.

“I need some money,” he said lightly, “just a little cents, and I will be okay.”

Amelia raised her head immediately, unwrapping her arms from his waist. She placed both palms flat on his chest, her brows knitting together as she searched his eyes.

“Some money?” she echoed. “What for?”

He chuckled, that easy, careless sound he always used when he didn’t want to dig too deep.

“Ahh, come on babes. Do I really need to tell my woman what I need money for before she gives me?”

She smiled faintly, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I don’t mean it that way,” she said calmly. “I’m asking because I handed a very huge amount to you just two weeks ago.”

He laughed again, louder this time.

“Babe… so you count?”

She shrugged, unfazed.

“Why not? It is money we are dealing with.”

He nodded slowly, lips curling into a half-smile.

“You are right anyway.” He paused, then tilted his head. “So you are saying you won’t give me until I tell you what I need it for?”

She nodded firmly.

“Right there.”

He burst out laughing, shaking his head.

“Okay, okay, fine.” He raised his hands in surrender. “There is this business deal I’m chasing—”

“Ughhhh.” She rolled her eyes dramatically, stepping away from him. “Business deals all the time, Charles. Does any of your business deals ever pull through?”

He scoffed playfully.

“Come on, babes. You are a businesswoman. You should know these things. You should know how it works.”

She folded her arms.

“Mmm. Enlighten me.”

“Not all businesses pull through,” he continued, unfazed. “Some fail. That is the naked reality.”

She nodded slowly.

“And you do not need to lecture me,” she said pointedly. “I know all that.”

“Alright,” he said, lifting his hands again. “So you understand me, right?”

“A buyer has to know what he is paying for, huh?”

He smiled knowingly.

“Well, yeah. But you aren’t buying anything now.”

She sighed, the sound carrying both resignation and affection.

“It is fine, Charles.” She walked toward the couch, picked up her purse, and glanced back at him. “Send the bill to my W******p DM, and you will get the money first thing Monday morning.”

His face lit up instantly, eyes widening like a child who had just been handed a gift.

“Oh!” he exclaimed. “My super power woman!”

She shook her head, amused.

“Don’t start.”

He walked over, pulling her gently into his arms again.

“You have no idea how much this means to me.”

She rested her head briefly against his shoulder, saying nothing. Somewhere in her chest, a quiet unease stirred, but she pushed it down. It was the same instinct that told her when a stock was about to crash, something like a cold, analytical voice she had ignored for months, or probably years even.

She knew the "business deal" was a lie. She knew the money was likely gone. But as she felt his arms around her, she made a silent, dangerous pact with herself: she would fund his fantasy one last time. Not because she believed him, but because she wanted to see exactly how far he would go before she had to burn the bridge herself.