Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back) novel Chapter 68

AMELIA’S heart was still racing when the stranger took two hurried steps backward, palms raised in surrender.

“I’m so sorry,” he said again, voice low and sincere. “I truly apologize. I didn’t mean to break in.”

He turned halfway toward the door as though ready to disappear and give her privacy, but something in his tone— respectful, not arrogant, made her pause.

“Wait,” she said quickly, adjusting the towel tighter around her chest. “Just… stay there. Don’t move.”

He froze obediently, eyes lifting to the ceiling instead of at her. That alone eased her tension.

“I knocked,” he explained gently. “Several times but there was no response. I tried calling the suite from the internal line downstairs, but it kept ringing out. The front desk asked me to come up because it was urgent.”

Amelia blinked.

“Urgent?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She shut the bathroom door halfway behind her and stepped a little further into the room, still cautious but calmer now.

“I’m so sorry,” he continued. “When there was still no answer and I noticed the door wasn’t properly shut, I thought perhaps something was wrong.”

Her eyes widened.

“The door wasn’t locked?” she muttered.

He shook his head slightly.

Amelia groaned and hit her forehead lightly with her palm.

“Oh my goodness. I must have forgotten. I was too busy admiring the decor.”

He allowed himself a small smile at that.

“It is a beautiful suite,” he agreed.

They shared a brief, awkward laugh, the tension dissolving little by little.

Up close now, she noticed him properly.

He was tall. Dark-skinned. Well-built in that effortless way. His uniform was crisp, white shirt tucked neatly into black trousers, sleeves folded slightly to reveal strong forearms. His face was strikingly handsome, sharp jawline, expressive eyes, and a trimmed beard that framed his mouth. On his left ear glittered a sparkling diamond earring.

There was something warm about him.

Professional. But warm.

“My name is Ifeanyi,” he said politely. “I’m one of the senior bartenders downstairs at the Blue Coral Lounge.”

She nodded slowly.

“Amelia.”

“I know,” he said before he could stop himself, then quickly corrected, “I mean, from the check-in records. Of course.”

A flicker of amusement crossed her face.

“So,” she prompted, folding her arms lightly beneath the towel, “what was so urgent that the bartender had to storm my suite?”

He straightened slightly.

“Yes, ma’am. There was an issue with your payment authorization.”

Her brows drew together.

“What issue?”

“The card used to secure the pent suite flagged for international travel confirmation. It went through initially, but the system placed a temporary hold pending verification. Our accounts department tried reaching you through the in-room line and the mobile number provided, but the calls didn’t connect.”

Amelia frowned.

“My phone was on silent.”

“That explains it.”

He continued carefully.

“It is not a cancellation. But if it isn’t resolved within the hour, the system automatically releases the suite back into availability. The manager asked that I personally inform you since you had just checked in.”

She stared at him for a moment.

“So if I had stayed in that shower ten more minutes, I would have come out homeless?”

He smiled faintly.

“Not homeless. Just relocated to a smaller suite.”

She exhaled sharply.

“Unbelievable.”

“If you would like,” he offered gently, “I can wait while you call your bank, or I can have the front desk send a portable authorization device up here so you don’t have to come downstairs.”

She studied him. He was attentive, looked composed and professional.

“You are very thorough for a bartender,” she observed.

“I have worked here for five years,” he replied. “They trust me with certain responsibilities.”

There was quiet pride in his tone.

“And how did you get volunteered for door-breaking duties?” she asked teasingly.

A sheepish smile appeared.

“I insisted. The manager thought it might look inappropriate sending security. I figured I could explain better.”

Her lips curved slightly.

“Thank you.”

“It’s my job.”

There was a brief silence, not uncomfortable, just aware.

She noticed the way he deliberately kept his gaze respectfully above her eye level. Not once had his eyes wandered.

Interesting.

“I will make the call,” she said finally. “Thank you for coming up.”

“Of course.”

He stepped backward toward the door.

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