Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back) novel Chapter 40

“YEAH, you wouldn’t believe it, I’m at his house right now,” Amelia giggled into the phone as she stepped further into the living room, carefully dropping a book she was holding on the arm of the couch.

On the other end, Clara gasped dramatically.

“Wait. His house? As in— Charles’ house?”

“Yes!” Amelia lowered her voice playfully, as though Charles could somehow hear her through walls. “We just arrived not long ago. I told you I was going to come and cook for him today. I missed doing this.”

Clara burst into laughter.

“Look at you! Amelia Harlow, CEO, workaholic extraordinaire, abandoning her desk to perform domestic duties.”

Amelia laughed too, shaking her head as she wandered slowly around the space, taking everything in— the muted colors, the clean but lived-in feel, the unfamiliar scent that still somehow smelled like Charles.

“Oh please, don’t even start. It has been long overdue. When last did I visit my husband-to-be’s house and perform proper wifely duties, huh?”

“Wifely duties,” Clara repeated teasingly. “Say that again and I might faint.”

Amelia rolled her eyes, smiling.

“You are impossible.”

“But seriously,” Clara continued, her tone shifting slightly, “you, leaving work in the middle of the day just to be at a man’s house? This one must really be special.”

Amelia leaned against the wall, phone pressed to her ear.

“Oh, he is. And besides,” she added thoughtfully, “if I really want to be sure he isn’t like Adrian… then I need to see him in his own space. I need to know how he lives. How he breathes when no one is watching.”

There was a pause on the line.

“That makes sense,” Clara admitted. “Still, I never thought I would see these days.”

Amelia smiled softly.

“Neither did I.”

She was about to say more when she heard movement behind her, bare feet padding lightly against the tiled floor. She turned instinctively.

And froze.

Charles had just stepped out of the room, phone in hand, hair slightly damp, bare chest on full display, only a pair of lounge shorts hanging low on his hips. The muscles on his arms flexed as he moved, effortless, unbothered, devastating.

Amelia’s breath caught.

For a second, maybe two— her brain simply shut down.

“Hey baby—” Charles started, then stopped mid-word when he noticed her expression. He glanced down at himself briefly, then back at her face, confused.

On the phone, Clara’s voice filtered through.

“Are you there, Amelia?”

Amelia didn’t respond. She just stared.

“Amelia?” Clara called again. “Hello?”

Charles waved his hand in front of her face, brows knitting.

“Babe? Are you okay?”

That was what snapped her back.

“Oh— yes! Yes, I’m fine,” Amelia rushed out, turning her face away far too quickly. “I’m… uh… fine.”

She cleared her throat, gripping the phone tighter.

“Clara, can I… can I call you back?”

Clara laughed knowingly.

“Ah. I see. For a moment I thought you fainted or something.”

“No, no,” Amelia said, forcing a laugh. “I’m good. I will talk to you later, okay?”

“Enjoy your… duties,” Clara teased. “Call me.”

Amelia hung up almost immediately and exhaled, heart pounding. She slowly turned back to Charles.

He was now seated on the couch, elbows resting on his knees, eyes fixed on his phone like nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

She swallowed.

“Um… so,” she said, clasping her hands together, “what should I prepare?”

Charles looked up at her, eyes warm, amused.

“Anything you wish, my lady.”

Her lips curved into a smile despite herself.

“So… anything?”

He chuckled.

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