A Second Chance With My Billionaire Love
Chapter 110

The task consumed the better part of his day. By the time he completed his responsibilities, the clock read four in the afternoon. His secretary Offered a modest meal, “Mr, Moore, you haven’t had lunch!-Please make do with this for now.

However, Harold had no appetite whatsoever.

With a casual tone, he stated, “Let’s return to the company.”

Descending from the fourth-floor office center, Harold encountered an unfortunate malfunction with the elevator, compelling him to utilize the passenger elevator instead.

Harold’s countenance grew increasingly volatile, his face contorted with anger.

As the elevator approached the ground floor, a sight awaited him… Rena!

Alone, she navigated the shopping haven, clutching several bags in her hands.

Currently engrossed in selecting clothing at a prestigious men’s boutique, she exuded an air of concentration and gentility.

Harold knew all too well that she was procuring garments for Waylen.

This scene unsettled him, instilling a deep discomfort within and he had no desire to witness it again. Swiftly, he departed the mall and sought solace within his car.

Harold closed his eyes, issuing a command to the driver to transport him back to the Moore family estate.

His secretary also caught sight of Rena but her timidity stifled any inclination to inquire or comment.

Upon Harold’s arrival at home, Krista discovered him, her surprise evident, and she prepared to engage him in a conversation concerning the company.

“Mom, I’m rather fatigued and in need of rest,” Harold interjected, loosening his tie as he ascended the staircase. 2

Noting his expression, Krista contemplated voicing ‘her thoughts but ultimately refrained.

Harold retreated into his room, forcefully shutting the door behind him.

Collapsing onto the bed, he shielded his eyes with his arm, his mind awash with the tender countenance adorning Rena’s face.

Harold’s body abruptly shifted position, his sudden movement causing the bedframe to squeak a little.

In a deliberate motion, he extracted his phone from his pocket, deftly unlocking the device and accessing his exclusive collection of personal memories.

Within that sacred digital space, a solitary photograph occupied the screen, capturing the essence of Rena, forever encapsulating her presence.

Perhaps two or three years prior, Harold had toiled relent! lessly often until midnight and, as he labored, Rena dutifully prepared nourishment, eagerly awaiting his return.

On that particular night, however, her patience was pushed to its limits, causing her to succumb to slumber while waiting for him to return.

Adorned with supple and flawless skin, Rena’s countenance radiated an aura of submissiveness, manifesting her inherent obedience.

Fatigued to the core upon his arrival home, Harold’s weariness was momentarily overshadowed by the sight of Rena’s vulnerable form.

Moved by her tranquil repose, he was inexplicably compelled to seize that fleeting moment within the confines of a photograph.

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