MR BILLIONAIRE'S REGRET: CHASING HIS IRRESISTIBLE WIFE

(ARIELLE'S POV)

The rest of the dinner passed in an uneasy silence, heavy and suffocating.

I focused on my plate, determined to avoid Jared's gaze and suppress the memories threatening to rise.

It was the scene the warmth of a family dinner, the kind of moment I'd once dreamed of-that had unraveled me. My defenses had cracked under the weight of it. I couldn't let it happen again. I wouldn't.

This should have been a reminder of what I could have had back then and a stark warning of what I now needed to protect.

About twenty minutes later, Jared excused himself, leaving me alone with Maverick.

I stayed, absentmindedly picking at the food as Maverick watched me with his curious, innocent eyes.

"Mom?" His soft voice pulled me from the tangle of my thoughts.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Why don't you talk to Daddy?" he asked, his tone careful but direct. "Did I do something wrong? Is it the food? Did it make you unhappy?"

His question hit me like a punch to the gut. I forced a smile, even as my heart ached. "No, sweetheart. Nothing is wrong. Don't think like that. Mommy's just tired from work, that's all."

He studied me for a moment, stealing a glance as though trying to gauge the truth. I couldn't help but smile at his persistence. My boy. The one constant source of joy in my life.

"Alright, dinner's done for you, champ," I said, softening my tone. "Go play with your Legos. Mommy will join you soon."

He beamed at me, nodded, and left the table quietly.

But the silence didn't last.

Jared returned moments later, clearing plates without a word. His presence unsettled me, but his gesture wasn't offensive. It was kind. Maybe too kind.

"You don't have to do that," I said, keeping my tone neutral.

He paused, glancing at me. "Do what?"

I frowned, my patience already worn thin. "This. All of it. The chores, the dinner. None of this is necessary. I have staff for a reason. And if this is some misguided attempt to change my opinion of you, save it. It's not working. It only makes things worse for everyone, especially Maverick."

Jared's jaw tightened. His gaze darkened, a flicker of hurt crossing his face before his voice came, low and restrained. "Is it everyone... or just you?"

His words struck a nerve, and I bristled.

"Do you always have to spoil everything?" His voice was quiet but sharp. "I made a mistake one I regret every single day. Does that mean I can't ever do anything right? I wasn't trying to impress you, Arielle. I'm just trying to make my son happy."

Anger surged, hot and bitter. I clenched my fists under the table, my voice trembling as I retorted, "Make him happy? Or make yourself feel better? Where were you for the past three years, Jared? Do you even understand what it's like? I've had to be everything-mother, father, provider. And now, you think a few meals and chores will fix that?"

The words spilled out before I could stop them, my voice rising with the frustration I'd buried for so long.

Jared's face fell, his expression etched with regret and something deeper-something raw that made my chest tighten.

Neither of us spoke after that. The room grew cold, and I busied myself with the dishes, refusing to look his way. When I finally retreated to my bedroom, a soft word followed me as I left.

"Sorry."

I paused at the door, his voice lingering in the air. For a moment, I almost turned back.

But I didn't. I walked away, without looking at him.

"I'm sorry too," I murmured, silently.

An hour later, I was lost in sketching new decoration ideas for my restaurant when my phone buzzed on the nightstand.

A smile crept onto my face as I saw the caller ID-Dwayne.

"Hey, dude," I said, answering with a playful tone.

"Hi, ostrich," he teased, his deep voice carrying a warmth that always made me feel lighter. "What's up? You took forever to pick up. Busy burying your head in the sand?"

"Busy with my 'great cause," I shot back, emphasizing the words with mock gravity. "Trying to fix something for myself, if you must know."

There was a soft chuckle on the other end. "Should I be worried? Or should I start packing my bags to help you run A&M? I've heard about your 'great cause' all the way in Italy, boss." "Oh, please. Don't start with that," I said, though his praise tugged a smile out of me.

Dwayne let out a sigh. "I'm just saying, if you ever need backup in New York, you know where to find me."

I laughed despite myself. He had that effect on me, always. "Noted. But I'm not ready to hire you yet. You might end up eating all the profits."

"I do have expensive taste," he admitted with a grin, leaning into the camera. "But seriously, Ari. Need any advice? I've learned some cooking after all."

Learned some cooking? I almost rolled my eyes at the understatement. This man and his false modesty-like he isn't the same guy our master chef couldn't stop raving about during class.

"If by some cooking you mean you're

a walking Michelin guide, sure. But no, thanks. think I can manage," I said finally. "Just brainstorming some new decor. It's been... a day. A new restaurant opened near mine,

and things got a little chaotic."

As I filled him in, Dwayne listened attentively, nodding occasionally and throwing in ideas that were surprisingly practical. I jotted them down, laughing at his quips, grateful for the distraction he provided. Somehow, he always knew how to lift my spirits. Talking to him was effortless, light and refreshing, like a cool breeze on a heavy day. He had a way of making me feel seen, like I could exhale all the tension I didn't even know I was holding.

Unlike Jared.

My mind wandered to the earlier argument. If Jared had been around, he might've had some insights too. When it came to running a business, no one could deny that Jared Smith was in a league of his own. He knew this city's economic pulse better than anyone. A small restaurant was basically nothing more complicated than the back of his hand.

If we hadn't had that argument, I might have swallowed my pride and asked for his advice.

"Okay, fair enough," Dwayne's voice suddenly brought me back. He was smiling, but there was a subtle shift in his tone. "I've got a question for you."

I arched my brow. "Okay...?"

"Relax, it's nothing heavy." His voice softened, "What fragrance were you wearing the last time we met?"

The question caught me off guard. I blinked, trying to recall, but came up blank. "Fragrance? I don't remember. I don't usually wear perfume when I'm working. It's not professional to overpower a customer's appetite."

His smile deepened, though his emerald eyes glimmered with something unreadable.

"What?" I asked, laughing nervously. "Was it that bad? Maybe it was just the kitchen..."

"Of course not," he said, his voice quieter now. His gaze met mine through the screen, drawing me in with the kind of intensity that made my breath hitch. "I just...miss it. That's all."

My breath hitched.

"... You miss me?" I blurted, my face heating up the moment the words left my lips.

His eyes softened, making my chest tighten. "Is that so hard to believe? Who else calls you every day at 4 a.m. from Rome?"

I blinked again, realizing he was right. I'd never even thought about the time difference before.

"Foolish," I muttered, shaking my head.

"And have you ever considered dating someone?" I asked before I could stop myself. "I mean, you've been in Italy for a while. Surely there's someone there who's caught your eye."NôvelDrama.Org content.

As soon as the words slipped out, I regretted them. I shouldn't have brought it up.

For a moment, he was quiet. Then, a small smile crept across his face, and he ran a hand through his hair.

"Fortunately, there is someone," he said, his tone light but his gaze steady. "But she's not in Italy."

My pulse quickened.

I couldn't look away from his piercing emerald eyes, now tinged with a softness that made my cheeks burn.

Just then, Jared's voice echoed through the hallway, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Are you about to use the hot tub now?"

I froze, my fingers tightening around the phone as my gaze instinctively shifted toward the direction of his voice.

Then Dwayne's soft chuckle came through the receiver, pulling me back.

"What's going-"

"I'll be right back, Dwayne. I promise," I blurted hastily, cutting him off and ending the call before he could question me further.

Heart racing, hurried toward the

bathroom, Dwayne's warmth and our easy conversation still lingering in my mind. It was so effortless, so natural, the way he made me smile. Just talking to him felt like a brief escape. It's safe, light, and freeing in a way I hadn't realized I needed.

But those thoughts evaporated the moment I pushed open the bathroom door.

And there he was. Jared.

My eyes took in the scene faster than my brain could process it. The broad shoulders, water glistening on his skin, those long legs stretched casually in the tub, and-oh god-higher up... Holy. Shit.

He was completely naked.