MR BILLIONAIRE'S REGRET: CHASING HIS IRRESISTIBLE WIFE novel Chapter 107

(Arielle's POV)

I returned home finally, exhausted but fulfilled. My Mom and son were already waiting in the sitting room, and they sprung on me, yelling their felicitations as I walked in.

"We saw the news!" Maverick exclaimed, jumping on me. "You're famous now, Mama."

"Congratulations, my darling. I'm so proud of you," Mom said.

I smiled, sharing in their happiness. "Thanks, guys."

I walked to the couch and we all settled in it and I filled their eager ears with how my day went. But of course, I ensured to keep the accident and the encounter with Sofia's part out, so they don't freak out.

After my narration, I excused myself as I was dying to shed the dress and accessories I had on my body. "Excuse me, you two," I said, rising to my feet. "I need to shower and rest a little."

"Dinner will be ready soon," my Mom reminded me.

I nodded, grateful for the brief reprieve. Once inside my bedroom, I peeled off my dress, craving comfort. The hot water in the shower felt like a necessary luxury, but as it cascaded down, my thoughts somehow wandered. Dwayne.

I hadn’t heard from him all day.

No call. No text.

A twinge of disappointment tugged at me, and I sighed. Why was I so affected? He must have been busy.

Plus, think about it, he had promised to visit, to see me often, but we both knew how life worked. Adults made promises like that all the time, but those were just good words, comforting lies to soften the inevitable.

People moved on. It was just what they did.

I smiled bitterly, then gave myself a light pat on the cheek.

Come on Arielle, forget about him! Women without men are like fish without bicycles! You are utterly fine.

Pushing the thought aside, I focused on the warmth of the water, letting it cleanse the tension from my body.

After bathing, I slipped into my pajamas and rested for a while, but my thoughts wouldn’t leave me alone.

When I finally made my way to the dining area, Maverick and Mom were already deep in conversation.

Maverick animatedly described his day, his art, and his little adventures around the neighborhood with Nana.

I watched them, cherishing these moments, knowing how fleeting they were.

After dinner, we tucked Maverick into bed, and as I left him in the safe hands of his Nana reading him bedtime stories, I returned to my room.

As I lay on the bed, waiting for sleep to come, my phone buzzed with a message. It was a message from Dwayne.

Without haste, I tapped it open.

He’d sent a picture—he stood in his kitchen, holding up a large fish, his grin as wide as the sea.

I couldn’t help but notice the blood splatters scattered across his shirt. Does this guy always do this when handling fish?

"Dealt with this big man today," he captioned. Below, a congratulatory message followed: "Congrats on your new position. The world’s not ready for you yet."

A smile spread across my face as I typed my response. He hadn’t forgotten after all.

The next day was graced with another task. I was meeting with Mr. Stone, my former Manager at my former place of work before I moved to Italy. He was the pioneer of my success story–he had informed me about the scholarship and convinced me to take it. Without him, I might never have left. Life would be so different.

I arrived at his small Cafe, and as I stepped inside, a wave of nostalgia hit me. The place was quaint, a far cry from the grandeur of the restaurant he once owned. But it had charm—cozy, warm.

The entrance door creaked as I pushed it open and walked in.

“He studied hotel management, worked under a few well-known hotels, and—" his eyes lit up with pride, "—he’s got a fresh, modern take on management. Exactly what this place might need.”

I nodded thoughtfully. “Sounds impressive. And how's his attitude? I mean, is he anything like you?”

A small chuckle escaped him. "Well, he's got a bit more fire in him. A lot more energy. But he's got his head on straight."

“If he’s anything like you in terms of integrity and dedication, I’m sure he’ll be perfect,” I said, smiling.

After the meeting ended, I bid him goodbye and left for home. Today, there was no Ashley playing driver so I drove my new car.

As I drove, my mind drifting to thoughts of home, Maverick’s laughter, and Mom’s warm embrace, an uneasy feeling crept in.

I glanced in the rearview mirror—just a quick check, but it was enough.

A car was trailing behind me, its headlights too steady, too focused. My stomach tightened.

No, it’s nothing, I told myself, forcing my hands to relax on the wheel. I slowed down, hoping they would pass, leaving my paranoia in the dust. But instead, the car mimicked my pace, creeping along at the same speed.

My throat tightened. No coincidence, I thought, fear jolting through me like an electric shock.

I gunned the car's engine, speeding off, heart pounding in my ears, the engine roaring to life. The streetlights blurred as I weaved through traffic, but the car stayed right on my tail, relentless.

Who are they? What do they want?

My eyes darted, searching for a way out. Up ahead—a narrow alley. Instinct kicked in. I swerved sharply, tires screeching, barely holding control as I shot down the alley.

For a breathless moment, the world seemed to hold still. I glanced back.

The car was gone, swallowed by the maze of streets behind me.