Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back) novel Chapter 93

“WHAT?!” Charles exploded, sitting upright as though the words had physically shoved him.

On the other end, Amelia didn’t flinch.

“You heard me.”

“You are comparing me to him now?” His voice trembled with disbelief. “After everything you said about that man?”

“I’m not comparing you,” she replied evenly. “I’m stating a fact.”

“A fact?” he barked. “That you prefer your ex-husband?”

“At least,” she said carefully, “he didn’t make me feel like an ATM.”

The sentence hit harder than the previous one.

Charles laughed, a short and disbelieving laugh.

“Wow. So that is what I am now?”

“You tell me,” she said. “Since I arrived in the Bahamas, you have called only once. Once, Charles. And that was after I had already received a series of calls from people who genuinely cared if I landed safely.”

His eyes narrowed.

“I have been calling you, and you have been ignoring me.”

“Seriously?” she countered, her composure cracking slightly. “The second time you called me since I got here was two days after I arrived. Two days, Charles.”

He opened his mouth to argue but she didn’t let him.

“And I am pretty sure the reason you suddenly found your phone charger and network was because you needed money.”

“That is not true!”

“Isn’t it?” she shot back. “What was the first thing you said after your accusations this morning? ‘I need money.’ Not ‘How are you?’ Not ‘Are you enjoying your vacation?’ Just money.”

He paced the room now, running his free hand through his hair.

“I was trying not to disturb you!”

She gave a dry laugh.

“Disturb me? You weren’t trying to disturb me when you needed funds for your ‘business idea’ last month.”

“That was different.”

“How?”

Silence again.

He exhaled harshly.

“You are twisting this.”

“No, Charles. I’m seeing it clearly.”

That line unsettled him.

Clearly?

Since when did Amelia see anything clearly when it came to him?

“You are acting strange,” he muttered.

“No,” she said quietly. “I’m acting awake.”

He clenched his jaw.

“So what? I can’t ask my fiancée for support?”

“Support?” she repeated. “Support is mutual. It is not one-sided. I am on a vacation, Charles. For once in years, I am breathing. Resting. Thinking. And you choose this moment to pressure me for money.”

“I’m not pressuring you!”

“You are,” she insisted. “And I’m not sending you a dime.”

The firmness in her voice stunned him.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she replied. “I am on a vacation, for God’s sake. I cannot, and will not, send you money.”

His pride flared violently.

“So what, I should go beg on the streets?”

“If you need money that badly,” she said, “find it elsewhere.”

The words dropped like stones.

His breathing became uneven.

“Oh,” he said slowly. “So you would see me to it when you are back?”

The implication was sharp, it seemed loaded with expectation.

And that did it.

Amelia hissed softly in irritation.

“I cannot believe you.”

Before he could respond—

The line went dead.

Charles stared at his phone.

For a full three seconds, he didn’t move.

Did Amelia just hang up on him?

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