Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back) novel Chapter 39

MARCUS stepped out of his office with a tablet tucked under his arm, already mid-thought about an email he needed to respond to, when his eyes landed on the familiar figure seated in the reception.

Charles.

Leg crossed over knee, phone in hand, bouncing his foot like a man whose nerves were working overtime.

Marcus paused.

“Well, damn,” he muttered, then louder, “look what the wind dragged in.”

Charles sprang to his feet the second he heard Marcus’s voice, almost knocking over the sleek leather chair behind him.

“Hey, man!” Charles said quickly, forcing a smile. “Good morning. I have been waiting for you, weren't you informed?”

Marcus arched a brow, looking him up and down.

“At my office this early? That alone tells me trouble has arrived. No one told me anything,” he looked around.

Charles laughed nervously.

“Come on, don’t be like that.”

Marcus stepped fully into the reception, handing his tablet to his assistant with a murmured instruction before turning his full attention to Charles.

“So,” Marcus said slowly, folding his arms, “what is going on? What happened to giving me a call?”

Charles scratched the back of his neck, glancing briefly at the receptionist who was pretending very hard not to listen.

“Can we… uh… talk inside?”

Marcus smirked.

“Ah. Definitely trouble.”

He turned on his heel.

“Come.”

Inside the office, Marcus shut the door behind them and gestured to the chair opposite his desk.

“Sit,” he said. “And start talking.”

Charles sat, leaned forward immediately, elbows on his knees.

“Okay. So. Amelia is coming.”

Marcus blinked once.

“…Coming where?”

Charles winced.

“To the house.”

Silence.

Then Marcus laughed, a short, incredulous sound.

“Which house, Charles?”

Charles sighed.

“Your house of course.”

Marcus dropped into his chair.

“I knew it. I knew this day would come again.”

“Bro, please,” Charles rushed. “Just listen.”

“Okay. Go ahead.”

He sighed.

“So, I asked her for some money—”

Marcus leaned back, studying him.

“Didn’t she just give you money recently?” he interrupted.

Charles lifted both hands defensively.

“Before you start, yes. And before you judge me— man has to survive.”

Marcus shook his head, chuckling.

“You are unbelievable.”

Charles ran a hand over his face.

“She told me yesterday night. Said she is serious this time.”

“Serious how?” Marcus asked.

Charles hesitated, then exhaled.

“She said before she gives me anything again… she wants to spend a day at my place.”

Marcus’s smile slowly faded.

“…A day?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“And cook for me,” Charles continued. “Clean. Act like my wife. You know, all these domestic things.”

Marcus stared.

“Act like your wife?”

Charles nodded quickly.

“Of course. Why do you talk like this is new to you? I need this money, man, and this is the only gateway to it.”

Marcus burst out laughing, slapping his desk.

“God help you.”

“Mehn, it is not funny,” Charles groaned. “She just wants to come over again, cook, clean, eat and merry. Not the first time, come on.”

Marcus leaned forward now, eyes sharp.

“And you thought, ‘Perfect time to involve Marcus.’”

Charles spread his hands.

“As we have always done, bro.”

“You never do,” Marcus muttered.

Charles stood up again, pacing.

“I have no choice, Marcus. I have been parading your house as mine since we met. If she decides to come and I suddenly start giving excuses—”

“She will sniff it out,” Marcus finished.

“Exactly!” Charles snapped his fingers. “And you know she is sharp. Too sharp.”

Marcus watched him quietly for a moment.

“So let me get this straight. You asked her for money again.”

Charles grimaced.

“Not like that.”

Marcus raised a brow.

“Okay,” Charles admitted, “like that. But I didn’t force her. She offered… with conditions.”

“And those conditions involve my furniture,” Marcus said dryly.

Charles stopped pacing and turned to him, palms pressed together.

“Marcus. My brother. Please. I just need the keys for one day.”

Marcus sighed, rubbing his temple.

“You are playing a dangerous game.”

“I know,” Charles said softly. “But I need this. Once this business thing pays off—”

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