Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back) novel Chapter 87

087

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087

ADRIAN’S black sedan roared into the wide parking space, tires grinding against the asphalt as he steered hard, his chest heaving with restless urgency. His knuckles whitened against the wheel. The weight of the call he had received earlier gnawed at him, every second feeding his fury and desperation.

Just as he rolled forward, headlights flared from the opposite end of the lot. A white Nissan jerked into motion, its engine purring confidently as it sped toward the exit.

Adrian’s gaze sharpened instantly, instincts twisting in his gut. He slowed his car, leaning forward, his eyes narrowing as the vehicle drew closer.

For the briefest second, the tinted glass caught the sunlight, and through it, a silhouette, no two silhouettes. A flash of Amelia’s hair. A man beside her.

His heart stopped.

“No-” Adrian muttered under his breath, his pulse slamming in his ears. He slammed the gearshift, intending to turn and follow, but the Nissan slipped past him with a swift glide, disappearing through the gates before he could maneuver.

By the time he spun the wheel sharply and pressed the accelerator, the vehicle was already a streak vanishing into the bustling street.

“Damn it!” His fist pounded against the steering wheel, the horn blaring angrily into the morning air.

Slamming on the brakes, Adrian leapt out of his car, eyes darting frantically.

“Did anyone see that car?!” His voice carried across the lot, commanding, desperate. He rushed to a group of attendants near the security booth.

“You!” he barked at the nearest man. “The white Nissan that just left- who was inside? Did you see them?”

The man blinked, startled by Adrian’s fierce tone.

“Uh, sir, cars pass through every second. I didn’t-”

Adrian swore under his breath, spinning to another.

“You! Did you see a woman- dark hair, she is pregnant, was she in that car?”

Confused stares. Shaking heads. A muttered apology.

“Sir, maybe the cameras-” one of the guards offered cautiously,

“I don’t want maybes!” Adrian snapped, his voice raw. “I need answers now!” His chest rose and fell in heavy bursts as he dragged his hand through his hair. The thought of Amelia, his Amelia driving away with another man clawed at his insides.

For several long moments, he prowled across the pavement like a caged animal, demanding, repeating questions, pressing anyone who had so much as glanced at the Nissan, Futile. Nothing.

Every second without her felt like a knife turning deeper.

Finally, with his jaw clenched and eyes burning with frustration, Adrian storied back into his car. The door slammed shut with a deafening thud.

He sat there, gripping the wheel, his breathing uneven. His reflection in the rear-view mirror stared back at him,

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pale and broken with rage.

Then, with a roar, he turned the ignition. The engine growled to life. Tires screeched as he pressed hard on the accelerator, the car lurching forward violently.

He sped out of the lot, a storm bottled inside him, ready to explode.

The very next day, Adrian walked into Satin and Sage, his expression calm on the surface, though inside him boiled a storm he could barely contain. The glass doors slid open to reveal the boutique’s carefully arranged displays, polished shelves, and a warm fragrance that clung to the air, lavender and vanilla, Amelia’s signature touch.

The moment he stepped in, a sales representative glided toward him, her smile wide and practiced, the kind that came naturally from dealing with customers every day.

“Good morning, sir. Welcome to Satin and Sage. How may we help you today?” she asked, her voice lilting with professional charm.

Adrian’s sharp eyes wandered across the boutique. The rich, vibrant colors of the clothes, the carefully curated corners, the elegance of the design, it had Amelia written all over it. He had built the foundation, but she had transformed it, elevated it into something exquisite. He didn’t even knew. His throat tightened as he whispered under his breath, almost to himself, “Nice place you have here.”

The sales rep’s smile brightened.

“Thank you, sir. That means a lot.”

Adrian turned to her, his jaw set but polite. “Is your manager in?”

She tilted her head slightly, still smiling.

“Not Rex,” Adrian clarified quickly, his tone firmer. “I mean- the CEO.”

The girl blinked once, then nodded.

“Oh! Yes, he is. Please, this way.”

He? Adrian’s brows furrowed ever so slightly. He? Amelia was the CEO. At least, she was supposed to be.

Still, without betraying his thoughts, he followed the young lady through the boutique. His steps echoed faintly against the polished floor, his mind racing with questions.

They stopped before an office door. The sales rep gave him another cheerful smile and gestured.

“You can go right in, sir.”

“Thank you,” Adrian muttered, his eyes following her as she retreated down the hallway. Then he looked down at himself, straightening the lapel of his immaculate suit. He smoothed his tie, flexed his shoulders. A quiet breath escaped his lips.

He was finally going to see Amelia. She had told him not to show up. She had refused him again and again. But he couldn’t stay away any longer.

Adrian raised his hand to knock, paused halfway, then lowered it again. Why knock? She was his wife. Amelia

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