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 immediately opened it. It was the address

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

phone lay on 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,

me, stirred something complicated in my chest-pride tangled with

the familiar fear gnawed

she even want

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

probably slam the door in my

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

was hesitating,

the name of Arielle's restaurant in bold letters. Below it, a

What if I invested?

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

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

and dialed the number listed

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

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

Gray," I

continued. "We'll be in touch to

sly smile crossed my face as I returned to work afterward, waiting for

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

an elegant gold plated sign bearing

lot was spacious, and the surrounding was impeccably

soft luminous lighting, expensive furnishings, and culinary artwork adorning the walls, but that wasn't what caught my attention. Right in the center of the restaurant, above