All Chapters of The Billionaire’s Regret : Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

ELARA’S POV Once the rain subsides, Elliot and I make our way to the car. My steps are slow as I contemplate whether to tell him everything or not. I know Elliot is just looking out for me, but how much he cares only makes me feel more guilt than I already do. “Elliot.” My voice is barely above a whisper. I’m not sure if I should tell him everything right here, but he’s getting so worked up because of me. The beeping sound of the car signaling that it’s been unlocked stops me. He doesn’t know anything right now. Maybe I should tell him and be done with it. But I can’t, not when he’s already in the car. Mom is probably inside, and I don’t think I’m ready to tell her anything. But when I reach the car, she isn’t in the front seat like I expected. “Where’s Mom?” I ask, sliding into the passenger seat. “She called a cab earlier and left,” he mutters, turning on the ignition. My Hand goes to the door slowly sliding into the car. The drive is quick, just as I thought

ELARA’S POVThe sound I hate the most right now has to be the ringing of my phone.After my call with Nate, I didn’t know what to do with what he sent me. So, I decided to leave it on the counter while I changed out of my wet clothes.Maybe I can think of something for when next I set my eyes on them. I tried calling Jenna again today. Finally, her phone was on, but for some reason, she wasn’t picking up, not even leaving a text. So It could probably be her calling now.I switch off my hair dryer, hoping it’s her.I guess I didn’t pray hard enough because it’s not Jenna. But at least it’s not someone I was dreading. It’s Sienna.Pressing the answer button, I bring the phone to my ear.“Hello, Elara.” Sienna’s voice comes through the line.“Hello,” I say with a small smile, as if she can see it.“Are you busy right now?” Her tone seems a bit off.“No, I’m at home. Is everything okay?” I ask.“Yes… but, uhm, I know this is last minute, but I have the pictures we took a few days ago rea

ELARA’S POV Fair enough. I glance to the opposite side of the room, where a woman has now taken a seat at what was an empty table just minutes ago. UNKNOWN: Relax, Goldie. No matter how hard you look, you won’t find me. So go ahead and drink your sorrows away in peace. ME: Who says I’m drinking away my sorrows? I ordered one mojito. And I haven’t even taken a sip of yet. UNKNOWN: Seems I guessed wrong, then. ME: You definitely did. I finally reach for my drink, taking a slow sip. The cool, minty flavor mixed with just a hint of alcohol is exactly what I needed. It’s been ages since I last had a mojito. After what feels like a long time. My screen lights up again. UNKNOWN: I have a gift for you, Goldie. Private rooms. Room B3. I’m sure you’ll love it. A gift? A few chats ago, they mentioned wanting to give me something. And now, suddenly, it’s waiting in one of the private dining rooms? A bad feeling settles in my gut. Obsidian’s private rooms are used f

ELARA’S POV Jenna ends her call with a sharp click, slamming the phone back into place. My gaze flickers to her, my mind still circling the last thing she said. “She won’t notice a thing.” Who is Brick? And who exactly is this person who won’t notice anything? Me? No, that can’t be right. I don’t have the full context of the conversation. I shouldn’t jump to conclusions. But if I shouldn’t jump to conclusions, then why is she in my seat, giggling into the phone with some guy named Brick while she’s been ignoring my calls for nearly a week? A tightness spreads through my chest, but I mask it with a slight arch of my brow. I push the door shut behind me, the soft click of it sealing us inside. “What are you doing in my office?” I ask, keeping my tone as neutral as possible. Jenna gasps dramatically, her face lighting up in exaggerated excitement. “Elara!” Instead of answering my question, she jumps up from my chair and rushes toward me. Before I can react

ELARA’S POV “You know, dear, expanding a business in early July is not something I’d recommend,” Mr. Caldwell says, his voice smooth but condescending, his hand lingering on my back a little too long for my liking. I shift slightly, forcing a polite smile, hoping he gets the hint. But instead of stepping back, he inches closer. Men like this are exactly why I avoid socializing at grand events like these. The flashing cameras, the overwhelming crowd, the endless small talk, it’s exhausting. And then there are the men the ones who mistake common courtesy for an invitation. Elliot had insisted I come tonight as his plus one. I had wanted to stay home, lose myself in work, but I agreed to this because, for the past two days since we returned to Vegas, we hadn’t had a moment alone. And I needed to talk to him. To tell him the truth. But the moment we arrived, it seemed like everyone had someone to introduce to my brother, or Elliot himself had someone he needed to speak with. I