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.

still in thought, my phone beeped indicating the arrival of a message. It was from my investigator and I immediately opened it. It

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

the desk, with the address staring at me like a dare I wasn't sure I had the courage to accept. Arielle's new restaurant, a symbol

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

then the familiar fear

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 without a second thought. My heart clenched at the thought. I could already imagine her

slam the door in my

a distant memory, buried

I was hesitating, something caught my

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

What if I invested?

wouldn't give me the answers I needed. But what if... what if I could help her? What if, without knowing it, I could

name, keeping my identity hidden.

my phone and dialed the number listed for potential investors. The

for investors in the new restaurant," I said, keeping my tone steady, rehearsing my plan in my mind. "I'm interested in learning more

other end responded. "We can set up a meeting to

I

the receptionist continued. "We'll be

as I returned to work afterward, waiting for

I wanted to make a good impression and it had to start with

was sophisticated and modern, with an elegant gold plated sign bearing the restaurant's

lot was spacious, and the surrounding

artwork adorning the walls, but that wasn't what caught my attention. Right in the center of the