Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back) novel Chapter 85

THE door clicked shut behind her with a soft finality.

Amelia leaned against it for a brief second, exhaling slowly, as though sealing the night outside. The quiet of her suite wrapped around her again, familiar, controlled and safe.

Her phone was already pressed to her ear.

“Yeah,” she said, kicking off her heels as she walked further inside. “I went through that today.”

Ryan’s voice came through calm and measured.

“And?”

She crossed the room toward the closet, unfastening her earrings and placing them neatly on the dresser.

“It aligns with what we suspected. The timelines match. Transfers too.”

A pause on the other end.

“So he is still moving carefully?” Ryan asked.

“Very,” she replied, slipping off her blouse and hanging it properly. “Nothing loud. Nothing obvious. But consistent enough to notice if you are looking.”

“And you are.”

“I always am.”

She changed into a silk sleep set, her movements unhurried but precise.

“What about her?” Ryan asked casually, though the undertone was deliberate.

Amelia’s eyes flickered briefly.

“She is quieter than him I guess,” she said. “But not invisible and very dangerous.”

“Shantel?”

“Yes.”

Another pause.

“But no direct contact since the last time?”

“Of course,” Amelia replied evenly. “But proximity doesn’t require conversation, does it?”

Ryan hummed thoughtfully.

“You think she knows you are here?”

“I doubt it,” she said. “And if she does, she won’t show her hand yet.”

She stepped into her bathroom, washing off the remainder of her makeup while balancing the phone between shoulder and ear.

“You sound calm,” Ryan noted.

“I am.”

“That isn't new though.”

She smiled faintly at her reflection.

“I know.”

Ryan let out a quiet chuckle.

“Or maybe distraction is adding to it.”

She ignored that.

“The documents you forwarded?” he continued. “I will have them reviewed again. Discreetly.”

“Good,” she said, patting her face dry. “I don’t want anything traced back prematurely.”

“And Charles?”

She paused just long enough for the silence to register.

“He is… predictable, been blowing up my phone since God knows when,” she said finally. “Ambitious. Impatient. Still chasing something bigger than his current reality.”

“And vulnerable?”

Her gaze hardened slightly.

“Everyone is vulnerable to something.”

Ryan didn’t press further.

“Just don’t underestimate desperation,” he said instead.

“I don’t,” she replied softly.

She walked back into the bedroom and slipped under the duvet.

There was a slight rustle of sheets as she settled in.

“So,” Ryan shifted tone, “enough of covert analysis. Let’s talk real numbers.”

“Ah,” she murmured. “My favorite language.”

“Satin and Sage.”

A small warmth entered her expression at the mention.

“What about it?”

“Your new fall collection preview, response has been strong. Pre-orders exceeded projections.”

She smiled more openly now.

“Good. I wanted that line to feel intimate but bold.”

“It does,” Ryan confirmed. “The silk wraps are already trending.”

“Of course they are,” she teased lightly. “I designed them.”

“Modest as ever.”

“And the resort?” she asked.

“Occupancy is steady. Two corporate retreats booked for next quarter. You might want to review the wellness package proposal, they are requesting a partnership with local therapists.”

“Send it to my email,” she said. “I will go through it tomorrow. And Ames Roses?” She added.

“Ames Roses is doing just fine. Valentine orders are already being placed. I told you fresh peonies would sell.”

“You were right,” she admitted. “Always.”

She lay back fully now, staring up at the ceiling.

“Expansion?” she asked carefully.

“For which one?”

“All of them.”

She heard him exhale thoughtfully.

“Satin and Sage first,” he said. “International shipping optimization. Then the resort— luxury but intentional. We don’t want it to lose intimacy, you know.”

“Sure.”

“Ames Roses stays small,” he continued. “Some things shouldn’t scale too fast.”

She was quiet for a moment, taking that in.

“You are right. But that is for now.”

He laughed, already expecting that.

“I know, I ain't disputing that with you.”

“Better,” she rolled her eyes, her lips curving faintly.

“Now, how is it going over there for real? You wanted clarity, are you getting it?”

She thought about the afternoon spreadsheets. The evening conversations. The way she had turned her phone face down without hesitation.

“Yes,” she said softly. “In ways I didn’t expect.”

Ryan caught the subtle shift but didn’t comment directly.

“Alright,” he said instead. “Get some rest. We will reconvene tomorrow.”

“Ryan?”

“Yeah?”

“Keep everything tight.”

“Always.”

The call ended.

Amelia placed her phone on the bedside table and reached to turn off the lamp.

Darkness filled the room gently.

For a brief moment, her mind drifted— not to spreadsheets, not to Charles, not to Shantel.

But to laughter under warm bar lights.

She rolled onto her side, pulling the covers slightly closer.

Clarity, she had called it.

Perhaps that was what this was.

And as sleep approached, she realized something quietly undeniable—

Her mission was still intact.

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