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

Bouquet of intentions and the final class.

(ARIELLE'S POV)

I pushed open the door to my office, and as usual, the feeling of anticipation I always receive whenever I arrive in it enveloped me. It was a new day, and I was looking forward to the activities it had in stock.

But as I strode inside, my eyes landed on what had come to be a familiar sight-a bouquet of lavender flowers sitting on my work desk.

I let out a deep sigh of resignation, already privy to who it came from.

"Does he ever give up?" I mumbled under my breath.

Three days. It had been three relentless days of this floral assault ever since Jared decided that declaring his undying love meant bombarding me with lavenders, of all things.

On day one, I'd been caught off guard. Seeing the delicate blooms nestled in a pristine white basket, tied up with a satin ribbon, had frozen me in my tracks. For a split second, I'd almost let myself feel... something. But then Rebecca had walked in, her face lighting up like Christmas morning.

"Aren't you touched?" she'd asked, practically swooning. "Lavenders aren't easy to get this time of year. And coming from the Almighty Jared Smith? That's effort."

I stared at her, utterly speechless in a way. "Touched? Rebecca, honey, this is a restaurant, not a botanical garden. Do you have any idea how this overpowering fragrance could ruin the dining experience? Not everyone loves flowers."

She'd blinked at me, clearly unsure whether I was serious or just heartless. Before she could respond, Stephen had strolled in, his sharp eyes instantly landing on the basket.

"Whoa. Someone's laying it on thick," he'd whistled, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

and I had exchanged a glance, then turned to him

bouquets and give them out to the guests as they leave. Everyone loves free

those moments where you couldn't help but appreciate

dismantled, the flowers redistributed, and our guests beaming

had walked into the restaurant an hour later, he'd been greeted by the sight of a queue of diners, each clutching a

he glared at me both aggressively and in disbelief. But I averted my

apparently, subtlety wasn't Jared's strong suit.

pressed

and cheerful as

this time, don't toss them. Repurpose them or something. Just make sure they're out of

before he replied, his tone laced with amusement.

took one look at the basket and smirked. "Man, he's persistent. You've

them," I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. "And for the love of all things holy, don't

the basket with exaggerated care. "Don't worry, boss.

was becoming a daily routine,

returned a few

announce the job was

it

some of

members to get flower pots and put them in it. Who

to your