MR BILLIONAIRE'S REGRET: CHASING HIS IRRESISTIBLE WIFE
Sucker punch.

(JARED'S POV)

My world seemed to shatter in that instant, as I stared at Dwayne's extended hand. Except that, I was not just staring at the hand; a myriad of thoughts were fighting a war in my head, too.

My father-the man I'd always admired, revered as wise, disciplined, and morally steadfast-had a child with another woman, before he even married my mother?!

I felt the air leave my lungs. My chest tightened. How could this be real? How could I even begin to process this? My father, the man who was supposed to be my moral compass, had a secret. This didn't add up. None of it did.

I looked up at Dwayne, searching for answers in his eyes. But his expression was calm and collected, and he gave nothing. I instantly felt a surge of anger and resentment towards this stranger, this interloper who had arrived to disrupt the family's dynamics I knew.

I didn't take his hand, didn't acknowledge his greeting. Instead, I turned to my mother, my eyes blazing with questions. Poor woman, I can't imagine how she'd be feeling by this unexpected revelation.

But on glancing at her, despite her face having lost its initial warmth and color, she remained composed, her calmness betraying nothing. Her eyes, usually warm and expressive, were now guarded, yet revealing nothing. I expected to see shock, anger, pain, or even tears, but instead, she seemed...so calm.

Then it hit me; she had known!

Nana must have informed her before tonight. The realization was like another attack on my wind pine, leaving me breathless and betrayed. My mother, the one I thought was clueless in all of these, actually knows a lot more than me.

Suddenly, I understood her odd concern about Nana choosing me as the heir. It all made sense now. I wasn't the only one vying for the title-I had a rival. A competent one. Dwayne was the one. He was the illegitimate son, the wild card in the game of inheritance. Just then, my thoughts were interrupted as Arielle's voice cut through the tension. "Why did you say his job is inconvenient to discuss, Nana?"

Despite the turmoil going on in my head, my ears flared as I, too, wanted to hear Nana's response.

She smiled softly, her gaze flickering to Dwayne as if permitting him to answer the question. "I think it's best if Dwayne explains himself," she said, her voice calm. She leaned back on her chair, her eyes never leaving Dwayne.

Dwayne turned to look at Arielle, his gaze calm, his smile polite, and in a low, measured time I was beginning to detest, he responded, "I've inherited part of my father's old operations in Italy. To be more specific, I run the Italian Mafia now." His words were delivered with a matter-of-factness that downplayed the gravity of his revelation.

The room fell silent, everyone at the table except Nana Jean froze, their eyes fixed on Dwayne with shock.

But at the same time, my heart suddenly started racing. I tried to piece together the fragments of the conversation, the subtle clues I had been missing. And suddenly it clicked, it all made sense now.

"Excuse me?" I said, sharply. "You run the Italian Mafia group?" I asked, to ensure I heard well and had not just conjured the words in my mind.

"Yes," Dwayne replied smoothly, his smile not wavering. "I've taken over my father's... business interest, you know, ensuring that his legacy doesn't go extinct," he said the last words with a tinge of sarcasm that I couldn't miss.

But that was the least of my concerns, as I was barely containing the fury that was building inside of me. "So you took my son from Denzel?" I demanded. "Those men, they were from you. Denzel was right..."

My words tumbled out, one after the other, as I glared at him.

He remained unfazed, still maintaining the smile on his face.

"I didn't take him, Jared. I saved him. Consider it a gift-a token of our first meeting."

I felt my anger flare, like a fireball ready to explode. "So what now? Do I thank you for saving my son?"

"That would be appreciated, yes." He inclined his head, his eyes glinting with an amusement that showed he was enjoying himself.

The air between us charged and thickened with tension, as we silently conveyed our disapproval and dislike for each other. But despite everything, I could still feel something about him nagging at me, like an itch I couldn't quite scratch.

I had a sense of familiarity, a vague recollection, but I couldn't place it.

The more I looked at him, the more I disliked him. He had somehow wormed his way into my life, into my family, without me understanding how or why.

And it was so uncomfortable.

(ARIELLE'S POV)

"That would be appreciated, yes." Dwayne's voice was smooth as ever-like chocolate milk sliding down your throat. Sweet, but laced with something too rich to stomach.

And I'm pretty sure my blood pressure had just hit an all-time high!

That man. Here. Now.

So it was true: the mysterious "family member" of the Smiths? Dwayne. But not just any family member-he was Jared's half-brother. The product of some secret affair his father had with another woman. And as if that wasn't enough to swallow, Dwayne ran the Italian Mafia. The Italian Mafia. Ashley's warnings about the group's past activities in Italy came rushing back like a nightmare I couldn't escape.

And most importantly, the part I just couldn't get out of my head-Jared meant Dwayne was the one who sent Maverick back to my house?!

I glanced down at Maverick, who was staring up at all this drama with big, confused eyes. I wanted to say something comforting, but honestly? What could I say?

'It's not your fault, sweetheart, your mother's also drowning in a fucking mess of chaos and lies!'

I locked eyes with Dwayne, not even bothering to mask the fury I was feeling. No way I could mistake those emerald eyes. I'd seen them enough times to know them like the back of my hand, no matter how

many people crowded the room, no matter how fancy the suit he was

wearing.

I didn't know much about Dwayne-only what he wanted me to know, which was... well, basically nothing. And now this? Mafia lord, half-brother, all the secrets-and I was still seated here like an idiot trying to make sense of it.

What the hell is wrong with this guy?

Why didn't he just tell me? How long had he been lying to me? I should probably be horrified that the Italian Mafia kingpin is related to Jared, and, by extension, to me. But

instead? I'm pissed.

And seriously, something about this whole situation just feels off.

Think, Arielle, think you stupid head!

I kept my gaze locked on him, and eventually, he met my eyes, that same smirk curling at the edge of his lips. Of course, he'd be enjoying this. He loved playing games.

That's when it hit me. The question I should've been asking all along:

When did he know all of this? His background? His connection to the Smith family? Did he know about me, too? Was I just some random woman who fell into his lap, or did he already have his sights set on me before we even met?

The thought shocked me so much I'm sure I flinched. And, naturally, he caught it. His smile widened, and the "good girl" look? Yeah, that's when I knew I'd hit a nerve.

What the hell is going on here, Dwayne?

Why didn't you tell me? And what else are you hiding?

Too much was happening too fast.

My mind was bogged and racing with questions. The room suddenly felt like it was closing in on me, and I couldn't seem to catch my breath. Hands trembling, I placed my fork down, unable to bear another second of the conversation. I needed to get out-before I completely lost it.

"Excuse me," I managed to say, rising to my feet. And without waiting for a response, I hurried out of the room.

I pretended like I was heading to the restroom but changed direction when I got to the hallway, and I was sure that I was out of sight. I walked outside instead, desperate for some fresh air in a moment to put my thoughts together. On arriving at the garden, I tried to calm my racing heart. The cool night breeze welcomed and enveloped me, providing the perfect atmosphere for retrospect.

But it wasn't long before I realized I was no longer alone. He had followed me, and he was standing behind me. I knew, even without turning.

And then I spun around, my voice cutting through the night air. "What is this? What is going on here? Dwayne, Dwayne Smith?! When did you know? Why did you hide all of this from me? Am I just some fool to you?"

My eyes blazed, the anger and betrayal rushing through me like an electric current.

Dwayne, being his usual self, remained composed, his expression one of feigned innocent curiosity.

"I remember you promised me last time we met that the next time, you would welcome me warmly Arielle," he said, his smile wide and slightly teasing.

I felt a bitter taste in my mouth. Really? After everything, this was how he saw me? And he still had the nerve to tease?

My lips curled into a cold, mirthless smile. "Welcome?" I repeated. "How exactly would you like to be welcomed, Dwayne? Should I roll out the red carpet for a Mafia lord?"

But his smile only deepened a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. He was obviously enjoying this way too much, and it only made my anger simmer over. My fists clenched at my sides, my body tense with the urge to strike him, the anger rising in my chest like a raging wave.

He noticed the subtle movement of my body, and his gaze dropped to my clenched fists, before looking up at me again.

His eyebrows were raised slightly, as he was clearly intrigued by my reaction.

"You could try, you know," he said, his voice husky and low.

That was all it took because I actually did try.

Without a second thought, I stepped forward and delivered a sharp punch straight into his face...