Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back) novel Chapter 59

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059

DAYS slowly stretched into weeks. Vivian had settled so deeply into The Cole’s mansion that she already moved like she had always belonged there. The white walls, the polished marble floors, the endless expanse of luxury, it all wrapped around her like a crown she wore with pride. Her belly was slowly rounding into a small bump, visible now when she wore her tighter dresses.

That afternoon, she walked out from the kitchen into the living room, her phone pressed against her ear. She was laughing as her free hand caressed the soft swell of her abdomen.

“Well, I told you, didn’t I?” Vivian’s voice rang with glee. “That God was working behind the scenes for me. And now, here I am, living the life people said I could only dream of.”

On the other end, Fiona gave a dry laugh.

“Vivian, you make it sound like some miracle.”

“It is a miracle,” Vivian argued quickly. “I told you I was done with those silly lectures, wasting my time in school. And look at me now. I’m carrying his child, I’m running this house, and soon-” she paused dramatically, twirling in the middle of the living room, “-I will be his wife.”

“You actually did that Vivian, quit school,” Fiona said, her voice rising.

Vivian scoffed and flicked her free hand dismissively.

“Of course. What is the point of dragging myself to lectures when I already have everything I wanted? Classes don’t compare to what I have now, Fi. Do you know how it feels to wake up and not worry about anything? About bills, about hustling? No, you wouldn’t understand. Adrian takes care of it all.”

There was silence on the line, then Fiona sighed heavily.

“Vivian, I don’t know if I should call this boldness or foolishness.”

Vivian gasped, feigning offense.

“Excuse me? Foolishness? You are just jealous, Fiona. Admit it.”

“Jealous?” Fiona laughed, but it lacked humor. “You are still his mistress. His pregnant mistress, Vivian. You aren’t his wife yet.”

Rolling her eyes, Vivian sank into the cream couch, her voice dripping with mockery.

“Mistress? Really, Fiona? Is that what you are still calling me? Let me enlighten you, Adrian already went to see my parents. My parents, Fiona. That should tell you something. We have talked, and the moment I put to bed, we will have our wedding. Officially.”

Fiona’s silence stretched for a beat before she spoke again.

“And Amelia? What about her? She is still his wife, Vivian.

Vivian waved her hand in the air, though Fiona couldn’t see.

“Amelia has moved out. She abandoned the marriage. That chapter is closed. This-” she looked around proudly at the lavish living room, “-is my reality now. My name will soon replace hers. Don’t you see? This is destiny.”

“You sound so sure of yourself,” Fiona muttered.

“Because I am sure.” Vivian leaned forward eagerly. “Why don’t you come over, Fiona? See it with your own eyes.

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You will understand when you step into this house. The portraits, the furniture, everything screams Adrian and Vivian now. No more sneaking, no more hiding.”

“No,” Fiona said flatly. “I can’t.”

Vivian blinked.

“What do you mean you can’t? Why?”

“Because it doesn’t make sense. All of this-” Fiona’s voice grew tight, “-is built on sand. You are carrying his child, yes, but it doesn’t change the fact that you are not his wife. What if he wakes up tomorrow and changes his mind? What then, Vivian?”

Vivian let out a peal of laughter, shaking her head as though Fiona were a child.

“You really don’t get it. Adrian loves me. I’m giving him what Amelia couldn’t, peace and a child. That is why he chose me. I told you this would happen, Fiona, but you refused to believe me. You will eat your words at my wedding.”

Fiona sighed again, weary.

“I just hope you know what you are doing.”

“I more than know,” Vivian replied triumphantly. “Anyway, when you are ready to stop sulking, come over. I will be waiting.”

They exchanged quick goodbyes and hung up. Vivian dropped her phone onto the couch and leaned back with a satisfied grin.

But the satisfaction was short-lived.

A sharp, sudden pain ripped through her abdomen. She gasped, doubling over as her hand flew instinctively to her belly.

“Ahh!” The scream tore from her throat before she could stop it. Her phone slipped from her fingers, clattering loudly onto the tiled floor.

Her eyes squeezed shut as she cradled her stomach, the pain so intense she thought she might pass out. Sweat dotted her forehead.

“Oh God… oh God…” she whispered through clenched teeth. “Not now. Not my baby…”

Then, just as suddenly as it had come, the pain vanished.

Vivian froze, her chest heaving. She blinked rapidly, disoriented, then slowly opened her eyes. Her trembling hands were still clutching her small bump protectively.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “What was that?”

Her heart hammered against her ribs as fear replaced her earlier smugness. What if something was wrong with the baby? What if all her dreams, all her boasts, were about to collapse?

Panicking, she scrambled to the floor, picked up her phone with shaky fingers, and without hesitation, dialed

Adrian’s number.

The line rang, her breath coming in shallow bursts as she pressed the phone tightly to her ear.

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Amelia sat at her dresser, her tablet propped up, phone in hand as she scrolled through the gallery. For almost thirty minutes she had lingered there, staring at her wedding photos. Her fingers would pause on the screen, enlarging one particular image, the one where she stood in her lace wedding gown, veil flowing behind her, Adrian’s arm proudly around her waist.

Her lips trembled as she smiled faintly, though the smile barely held. Soon, a tear slid down her right cheek, hot and heavy, landing on the glass of the phone. She didn’t bother wiping it away. She let it fall.

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