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

ADRIAN sighed deeply as the line went dead in his ear. For a few seconds he remained still, the phone pressed against his temple as though willing the call to reconnect. Amelia had hung up on him. Just like that. Calm, decisive and unmoved. The decision had been made. Hazel would be moving to the boarding section of her school, and there was nothing he could do about it.

He lowered the phone slowly and placed it on his desk.

‘Hazel, I’m sorry,’ he thought.

He leaned back in his leather chair, exhaling through his nose before straightening up again. Work. He needed to drown himself in work. It was the only thing that did not argue back.

He pulled a document closer and began scribbling on it, his pen moving faster than usual, almost aggressively. Figures, corrections, side notes. He barely blinked as he switched between the printed sheets and his open laptop. Emails blinked in the corner of the screen, reminders popped up, but he ignored them all. His jaw was tight, his brows furrowed.

For thirty solid minutes, he worked without pause.

Then his phone rang.

He didn’t need to look at the screen to know who it was.

Hazel.

The ringtone continued, shrill and persistent. He inhaled sharply but kept writing. There was no new answer he could give her. He had already promised to “talk to her mother.” And he knew exactly how that conversation would end— with Amelia’s final word slicing through him like it always did.

The call stopped.

A second later, it came in again.

Adrian shut his eyes briefly. The ringing drilled into his skull. He picked up the phone, stared at it for two seconds as Hazel’s name flashed boldly across the screen, then dropped it back down.

Not now.

The ringing continued. When it refused to stop, he reached over, switched the phone to silent, and turned it face down.

There was time for everything.

A knock sounded on the door.

“Come in,” he called, his voice already composed.

Peter stepped in, holding a blue file against his chest.

“Sir, the revised projections you requested.”

Adrian gestured to the desk.

“Leave it there.”

Peter placed the file down carefully.

“The investors’ meeting has been shifted to Thursday. They sent an email about twenty minutes ago.”

Adrian nodded.

“Fine. Adjust my schedule accordingly.”

Peter hesitated.

“Sir… everything okay?”

Adrian’s pen paused for a fraction of a second before continuing.

“Perfectly.”

Peter nodded, sensing the dismissal.

“Alright, sir.”

He walked out quietly, shutting the door behind him.

The office fell into silence again, except for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the soft tapping of keys under Adrian’s fingers.

Then his second phone rang.

This time, he didn’t even glance at it. He assumed Hazel had switched tactics and was calling the other line.

Without checking the screen, he picked it up, irritation edging his voice.

“Hazel please, I’m very busy right now. I will call you back once I’m done.”

There was a pause.

“Mr. Cole? It’s me… it’s George.”

Adrian froze mid-sentence.

The irritation drained instantly from his face. He pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at the screen.

George.

His butler.

“Oh my goodness,” Adrian muttered under his breath.

He quickly placed the phone back to his ear.

“George?”

“Yes, sir. It is me. I’m sorry for the intrusion.”

“No, no, it is fine. I thought it was my daughter calling,” he said, running a hand over his face. “How are you? It’s been a while.”

“I’m well, sir. Thank you for asking.”

Adrian leaned back slowly in his chair, tension easing just a little.

“So, what’s up with you?”

A slight crackle came from the other end before George spoke again.

“Okay. I was calling to let you know we will be returning in a few days, sir.”

Adrian straightened in his seat.

***

Vivian tucked her legs beneath her as she sat on the couch, the soft throw pillow resting against her stomach. Fiona had wisely disappeared into her room the moment Vale arrived, claiming she had “assignments” to complete, though Vivian knew her friend was simply giving them privacy.

Vale sat close, close enough that their knees brushed occasionally. He had one arm stretched lazily across the back of the couch, his body angled toward her in a way that made her feel both seen and chosen.

“So,” Vivian smiled, twisting a strand of her hair around her finger, “how does it feel being back home officially?”

Vale exhaled softly.

“Honestly? It feels good. Different, but good. Being abroad for years changes you. But there’ is something about home that settles you.” He paused briefly before adding, almost automatically, “My sister says that all the time too. She used to tell me that no matter how far I go, I will always crave home.”

Vivian smiled politely.

“She sounds wise.”

“She is,” Vale said immediately, his eyes lighting up. “You would love her. She is strong, decisive… the kind of woman who walks into a room and everyone just—” he snapped his fingers lightly, “—notices.”

Vivian chuckled.

“Wow. That is a serious introduction.”

“I’m not even exaggerating,” he insisted, leaning forward. “Everything I am? I owe a lot of it to her. When our mom was busy building her businesses, she practically raised me.”

“That is sweet,” Vivian said softly.

And she meant it. It was sweet. Admirable, even.

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