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.

a message. It was from my investigator and I immediately opened it. It was

suddenly developed a cold feeling. Now

on the desk, with the address staring at me like a dare I

something without me, stirred something complicated in

then the familiar fear gnawed at

even want to see

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 me to leave

the door in my

if she hated me now? Oh she must have. What 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

as I was hesitating,

restaurant in bold letters. Below it, a call for potential shareholders. Immediately, an idea took root in

What if I invested?

me closer to her. It wouldn't give me the answers I needed. But what if... what if I could help

to apply, but under a different name, keeping my identity hidden. She'd never have to

dialed the number listed for potential investors. The phone rang twice before a professional

for investors in the new restaurant," I said, keeping my tone

voice on the other end responded. "We can set up a meeting to discuss further. Can I get

I

you, Mr. Gray," the receptionist continued. "We'll

face as I returned to work

attention to my look. I wanted to make a good impression and it had to start

with an elegant gold plated

was spacious, and the surrounding was impeccably manicured and

by the interior design. It was tastefully designed, with soft luminous lighting, expensive furnishings, and culinary artwork adorning the walls, but that wasn't what caught my