Mr billionaire's regret chasing his irresistible wife by Gabby Emmanuel

A potential shareholder.

(JARED'S POV)

My phone rang, breaking the silence in my office. I glanced at the screen to see my investigator's name flashing. "Talk to me," I answered. "Do you have an update?"

"Yes, I do," he replied and hesitated.

"Go on," I urged.

"Unfortunately, I was unable to trail her to her house. She noticed I was following her and she made me lose her."

My jaw clenched and my grip on the phone tightened. "Is all you do is give excuses?" I snapped.

"Calm down, Sir. Please, hear me out," he pleaded.

I exhaled, forcing myself to remain silent and let him continue.

"I was unable to follow her to her house as planned yesterday, but I managed to get the address of her restaurant."

"Her restaurant?" I repeated, my interest piqued.

"Yes, she's building her restaurant, and it's opening next week."

I sat up straight on the chair now. "Send me the address."

After the call ended, I reclined back on my chair, lost in thought. Arielle was not just back; she was setting up her own restaurant? Wow, this woman was just so full of surprises.

message. It was from my

went over the address, and suddenly developed a cold feeling. Now that I have managed to get the address, what

the desk, with the address staring at me like a dare I wasn't sure I had the courage

thought of her thriving, building something without me, stirred something complicated

the familiar fear gnawed at me

she even want to

last conversations suddenly swirled in my mind. It's been three years and I never had the courage to recall that day, that cold finality in her voice as we signed the papers, the way she asked

the door in my

if I'd waited too long, and I was nothing more than a distant memory, buried beneath the layers of her new life? Sighing in resignation, I tried to put my phone away. I couldn't do it,

was hesitating, something caught my eye-an

scrolled down, noticing the name of Arielle's restaurant in bold letters. Below it, a call for potential shareholders. Immediately, an idea took root in

What if I invested?

wouldn't bring me closer to her. It wouldn't give me the answers I needed. But

but under a different name, keeping my identity hidden. She'd

the number listed for potential investors. The

calling regarding the notice for investors in the new restaurant," I said, keeping my tone steady, rehearsing my plan

the other end responded. "We can set

Gray," I said

Mr. Gray," the receptionist continued. "We'll be in touch

smile crossed my face as I returned to work

I paid extra attention to my look. I wanted to make a good impression and it had to start with my physical appearance. I wore a well

of the look. The exterior was sophisticated and modern, with an elegant gold plated

the surrounding was impeccably manicured and

stepped inside, I was struck by the interior design. It was tastefully designed, with soft luminous lighting, expensive furnishings, and culinary artwork adorning the walls, but that wasn't