Too Late for Sorry, Mr. Billionaire (Chasing my Wife Back)

THE hum of the car engine slowed into silence as Adrian pulled into the parking lot. Morning sunlight danced across the sleek black paint, reflecting the kind of success that needed no chauffeur, no driver in the front seat, just Adrian himself, the man who preferred control in everything he touched. He exhaled slowly, a habit he had never managed to shake off before stepping into the world of work.

Just as he reached for his briefcase, his phone buzzed on the passenger seat. The vibration was sharp, urgent, and yet when his eyes dropped to the screen, his lips curved into a private smile.

The Automobile Guy.

Of course, no one at home and work would ever suspect what that name meant. For them, it was just another client, another business contact. For his wife, it was the company's automobile repairer. But Adrian knew better. The moment he swiped the screen, her voice flooded his ear like velvet.

“Happy birthday, darling.”

The softness of her tone carried a promise, one that made him lean back against the leather seat with an unguarded grin.

“You remembered,” he replied, his voice warm, casual, but tinged with a satisfaction he couldn’t quite hide.

“I could never forget,” she said, laughter rippling lightly at the end of her words. “So, what is the big plan tonight? You are not going to leave me wondering, are you?”

Adrian chuckled, his hand drumming on the steering wheel.

“Big plan?” he teased. “You know me, I like to keep things quiet. But—” he lowered his voice, almost conspiratorial, “I will stop by after work. A little celebration. Just us.”

The line went silent for a beat, then her voice returned, softer, more playful.

“That is what I wanted to hear. I have got a surprise for you too.”

“You and your surprises,” he murmured, pretending to sound weary but smiling nonetheless. “Last time you nearly set my whole schedule off balance.”

“That is because you spend too much time working,” she shot back. “Birthdays aren’t for boardrooms, Adrian.”

Adrian let her words linger, the warmth in them stirring something he buried too often beneath spreadsheets and strategies. He glanced around the quiet lot, half-aware of how dangerous this game was. Yet, it was moments like this that slipped under his armor.

“You have already made my morning better,” he confessed, his voice low. “Now, let me get through this day, and tonight, we will talk about real celebrations.”

Her laugh filled his ear once more, rich and satisfied.

“I will hold you to that.”

The call ended, the name *The Automobile Guy* blinking away as though erasing evidence of what just transpired. Adrian stared at the screen for a moment before sliding the phone back into his pocket, his expression settling into the polished calm he wore like a suit.

A shadow fell across the driver’s side window. He looked up to find a familiar figure approaching with a spring in his step. Peter, his assistant, young and brimming with the kind of energy Adrian sometimes envied, grinned at him.

Adrian rolled down the window as he leaned slightly closer.

“Happy birthday, sir!” the assistant said, his tone respectful but touched with friendly warmth. “I thought I would be the first in the office to say it.”

Adrian arched a brow, amused.

“You are not the first,” he muttered under his breath, then caught himself. Straightening, he replied with a nod, “Thank you, Peter. Early as always, I see.”

Peter chuckled.

“Someone has to make sure things are smooth before the boss arrives. Besides, I figured today would be special for you.”

Adrian stepped out of the car, adjusting his jacket with practiced ease.

“Special? It is just another day. Clients don’t care if it is your birthday.”

“But employees do,” Peter countered lightly as they fell into step toward the building. “And maybe your family too. You have got dinner planned tonight, right?”

Adrian’s lips pressed into a thin line, his thoughts flashing briefly to the earlier call.

“Something like that,” he said vaguely.

Peter, always sharp enough to sense when not to push, smoothly shifted the conversation.

“Alright then, back to business. I reviewed the reports from yesterday, there is a bit of an issue with the Westbrook account. Their shipment hasn’t cleared, and if it drags, we might lose their confidence.”

Adrian’s stride didn’t falter.

“I will handle Westbrook myself. Draft an email setting a meeting for Friday. Make sure the numbers are in order before then.”

“Yeah, I'm already working on it,” Peter said quickly. His tone carried a hint of pride, the eagerness of someone who knew Adrian demanded perfection but respected it when he saw initiative. “And about the presentation this afternoon, you will have everything ready on your desk by noon.”

Adrian gave a slight nod of approval.

“Good. Keep it sharp. We are not leaving room for errors.”

“And ugh, a lady rang this morning—” he paused, not having the slightest idea whether to continue or just stop.

“A lady?” Adrian halted, turning to him.

Peter nodded.

“Yes sir, a lady.”

“Business I suppose,” he continued walking.

“I'm afraid not, sir.”

“Then what?”

“She wanted to wish you a happy birthday, says her name is—”

“I don't care about her name,” he interrupted, “save it,” he added.

Peter swallowed hard.

“Okay, sir.”

They approached the glass doors of the building, the morning light reflecting off its surface like a mirror. Peter reached ahead to pull the door open, but Adrian’s hand was already there, firm and unyielding. He didn’t need doors opened for him.

“After you,” Adrian said instead, the faintest smirk on his lips.

Peter laughed softly, shaking his head as they entered.

“Even on your birthday, sir, you are impossible.”

“Discipline doesn’t take days off,” Adrian replied, his voice cool but steady.

And with that, the noise of the office greeted them, phones ringing, keyboards tapping, voices blending into the hum of ambition. Adrian’s expression slipped fully into its professional mask, the smile from earlier tucked away where no one else could see.

Only he knew that tonight, behind a door no one dared to knock, the real celebration would begin.