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.

beeped indicating the arrival of a message. It was from my investigator and I

and suddenly developed a cold feeling. Now that I have managed to get

staring at me like a dare I wasn't sure I had the courage to accept. Arielle's

her thriving, building something without me, stirred something complicated in my chest-pride tangled

familiar fear gnawed at

even want

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 without a second

the

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 phone away. I couldn't do

I was hesitating,

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

What if I invested?

bring me closer to her. It wouldn't give me the answers I needed. But what if... what if I could help her? What if, without

apply, but under a different name, keeping my identity hidden.

number listed

the new restaurant," I said, keeping my tone steady, rehearsing my

end responded. "We can set up a meeting

I said

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

face as I returned to

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

modern, with an elegant gold plated sign bearing

and the surrounding was impeccably manicured

artwork adorning the walls, but that wasn't what caught my attention. Right in the center of the restaurant, above the main bar, there she