Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back) novel Chapter 34

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THE evening light spilled lazily into the coffee shop of the mall, casting warm amber shades over the glass walls and polished floor. Outside, the sky was painted with strokes of purple and orange as the sun bowed to the night. Inside, the low hum of chatter mixed with the clink of cutlery against porcelain.

Vivian sat alone at a corner table, scrolling endlessly through her phone, her fingers moving without thought. Her table was bare except for a small leather bag resting on it, the zipper glinting under the soft lights. She had been waiting, though she pretended otherwise, crossing one leg over the other with a careless air.

Then, like a scene entering its cue, Claire walked in. Beautifully dressed, poised as ever, she moved with the confident sway that commanded attention without needing to ask for it. Her dress was a deep shade of emerald that hugged her figure, her heels clicking faintly as she approached the table. Vivian’s head lifted immediately, her eyes glimmering.

“Well, well,” Vivian smiled, dropping her phone onto the table. “Someone is glowing tonight. Claire, you look stunning, honestly, that dress? Evening perfection.”

Claire gave a small laugh, sliding her bag onto the table beside Vivian’s.

“You flatter me, Vivian.” Her gaze swept across the empty table, brow arched. “But tell me, nothing on this table? Not even a cup of water?”

Vivian leaned back, a small smirk playing on her lips.

“Well, I only waited for my history before I could make an order.” She tapped her chest dramatically. “What is an order without something memorable behind it?”

Both women burst into laughter, the kind of laughter laced with undertones only the two of them understood.

Claire tilted her head, her smile sharp.

“Well, you did right. I, for one, need to make that order immediately, considering the great job you did yesterday.” She turned her head toward the bar counter, lifting her hand to catch a waiter’s eye.

Vivian’s lips curved into a smile, slow and suspecting, her eyes narrowing playfully.

“And what exactly are we talking about?” She dragged the question out as if she were oblivious, though the glint in her eyes betrayed her.

Claire scoffed softly, folding her arms while keeping her eyes on Vivian.

“Don’t play coy with me. Yesterday was a blast.”

“Really?” Vivian leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm, curiosity feigned but sharp beneath the surface.

The waiter finally approached, pad in hand. Claire placed her order effortlessly, asking for two drinks and an evening meal, her tone one of practiced elegance. Only when he left did she return to her little revelation.

“Yes,” Claire continued smoothly, “you did exactly what I wanted. You held Adrian when Amelia needed him most. Now we will see who the real woman in his life is.” Her head tilted slightly as she spoke, her words laced with venom disguised as admiration.

Vivian couldn’t help herself, she laughed. A throaty, amused sound that made heads turn briefly from nearby

tables.

“You can say that again. That is what I’m best at.” She shrugged, her bare shoulders catching the golden light.

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And the best part? I don’t even have to try.”

The two women dissolved into laughter again, their tones darkly harmonious.

Claire leaned closer, lowering her voice but not her smugness.

“You know, I was at her place this earlier this evening. The moment I stepped into that kitchen, it was written all over her. She was sad, crestfallen, absolutely broken. I didn’t even need her to tell me what happened. I knew immediately.”

Vivian’s eyes widened, feigning surprise but drinking every word.

“You don’t say!”

“I mean it,” Claire pressed, nodding firmly. “That mood she always falls into whenever Adrian fails her? She was drowning in it. Her silence screamed louder than her words could have.”

Vivian chuckled, then shrugged, pretending detachment.

“Well, what can I say? She should be used to it by now.”

Claire sipped from the glass of water the waiter had left before their meal. Her eyes glinted over the rim.

“And you know what?”

“Yes?” Vivian leaned forward.

“This is the time to really pitch your tent.”

Vivian blinked, tilting her head.

“Okay, how do you mean?”

Claire leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms, her nails tapping lightly against her sleeve.

“Right now, my sister is so mad at Adrian, she won’t speak to him. Whether he eats her food, she won’t care. She won’t wait up all night for him anymore. She won’t let him touch her.” Her voice carried an almost gleeful rhythm, savoring every detail. “And you know what that means?”

Vivian’s brows furrowed, her lips pressing together thoughtfully.

“Mm-mm?”

“The house will be boiling,” Claire whispered, eyes narrowing. “Full of tension, so hot Adrian won’t want to stay. And you know what comes next?” She held Vivian’s gaze, waiting.

Vivian, sharp as always, caught the thread immediately. Her lips parted slowly, then curved upward.

“Ohhhhhh,” she let the sound draw out before laughing.

Claire smiled triumphantly.

“Yes. He will fall back at you.

“I knew it!” Vivian exclaimed, slapping the table lightly in excitement. “I knew it, Claire.”

“He will fall back at you,” Claire repeated, voice smooth as silk, “and he will become fully yours. Strike, Vivian. Make Amelia cry. Make her shed those tears, make her realize her perfect little Adrian isn’t so perfect after all.”

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