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2025-12-30 21:21:15
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Goodbye, Mr. Wrong: The Heiress Returns Unread
Siennna’s POVThe message sat there, unread.Desmond’s name on my screen felt heavier than it should have, like it carried more weight than a simple text ever could. I stopped walking, the noise of the city fading into a dull hum as my thumb hovered over the notification.Behind me, I could still feel Gabriel’s presence, even though I hadn’t looked back. He hadn’t followed—at least, I didn’t think he had—but he’d left something behind. A disturbance. A crack in the carefully balanced version of my life.I opened the message.I landed safely. I’ll explain everything soon.That was it.No apology. No details. No reassurance. Just a neat little sentence meant to pacify me, to buy time.My chest tightened.Explain everything soon.Soon was a word Desmond used when he didn’t want questions. When he needed control over the narrative. When he wasn’t ready to tell the truth.I typed back.You told me you were in London.The reply didn’t come immediately.I started walking again, forcing my le
Goodbye, Mr. Wrong: The Heiress Returns Stuck In The Middle
Sienna’s POVMy phone buzzed again in my hand.Kingsley’s name glowed on the screen, the three typing dots disappearing, replaced by a message.Desmond isn’t in UK. He’s in Italy.I stared at the words like they might rearrange themselves into something that made sense.Italy?My breath stuttered. That wasn’t just a weekend trip or a convenient excuse. That was distance. Planning. Secrecy.I looked up sharply at Gabriel, who was watching my face a little too closely, like he was reading reactions instead of expressions.“You okay?” he asked, concern slipping into his voice.“No,” I said honestly, my pulse pounding in my ears.My fingers moved before my brain caught up, typing back to Kingsley.Italy? Since when?The reply came almost immediately.Two days ago. He didn’t want it getting out yet.Didn’t want it getting out.The words echoed, stacking on top of the unease already coiled tight in my chest. Desmond didn’t disappear without a reason. And he definitely didn’t let me believe
Goodbye, Mr. Wrong: The Heiress Returns Curiosity Piqued
Sienna’s POVThe waiter hesitated, clearly uncomfortable. “I’m really sorry, ma’am. I was instructed not to disclose their identity.”“That’s not how restaurants work,” I said quietly, though my pulse had begun to race. “Someone doesn’t just pay for my lunch and vanish into mystery.”He offered a sympathetic smile. “They insisted.”I exhaled slowly, steadying myself. Drawing attention wouldn’t help. Still, unease crawled up my spine as I gathered my purse.“Wait,” he said quickly, lowering his voice. “There’s… something else.”My fingers tightened around the strap. “What kind of something else?”He glanced around once more before reaching into his apron and pulling out a slim cream-colored envelope. No logo. No name. Just my first name written across the front in careful, deliberate handwriting.Sienna.My heart skipped.“They asked me to give this to you after you finished eating,” he explained. “They were very clear about that.”“Did you see them?” I asked.He shook his head. “They
Goodbye, Mr. Wrong: The Heiress Returns Bills Cleared
Sienna’s POVThe fashion house smelled like clean linen, espresso, and quiet ambition.It always grounded me.I stepped out of the elevator into controlled chaos—designers bent over tables, assistants gliding between racks with tablets pressed to their chests, the low murmur of fabric being discussed like it was alive. Floor-to-ceiling windows flooded the space with late-morning light, turning silk and satin into liquid gold.“Good morning, Mrs. Hale,” my receptionist said, already standing.“Sienna,” I corrected gently, as always. Titles made distance. I needed none of that here.She smiled. “Your office is ready.”I nodded and walked in, slipping into the version of myself that didn’t crack under unanswered calls. The CEO. The woman who signed contracts without shaking hands. The woman who knew how to command a room without raising her voice.I set my bag down, shrugged out of my coat, and stared at the city beyond the glass. Somewhere out there, my husband was either exactly where
Goodbye, Mr. Wrong: The Heiress Returns Business Trip
Sienna’s POVMornings in our house were always loud.Not the chaotic kind—no shouting, no slammed doors—but the soft, busy noise of life moving forward whether you were ready or not. The hum of the kettle in the kitchen. The rustle of school uniforms. Milo’s constant tapping of his feet against the floor like he was powered by something invisible. Max humming off-key while trying to shove one sock into another. Maya standing perfectly still, arms lifted like a little queen waiting to be dressed.I fastened the last button on Maya’s cardigan, smoothing the fabric down her tiny shoulders. “There,” I said softly. “All done.”She frowned at her reflection in the hallway mirror, then turned to me, dark eyes too observant for someone her age. “Daddy didn’t help today.”My fingers stilled.Milo snorted from the couch. “Daddy never helps in the morning.”“That’s not true,” I said automatically, though my voice lacked conviction. “Daddy helps when he can.”Maya tilted her head, curls bouncing.
Goodbye, Mr. Wrong: The Heiress Returns Invitation to the Club
Desmond’s POVMy phone rang again before I could convince myself to calm down.I really didn’t want to answer but I answered anyway.“Yes?” I said.“Where are you?” my father asked.His voice was even, unhurried—like he wasn’t calling to disrupt my entire night.“At the house,” I replied. “You told me to stay.”“And I still mean that,” he said. “But not in that room.”I straightened. “What does that mean?”“It means,” he continued calmly, “that I need you to come meet me.”I frowned. “Meet you where?”“A club.”The word sat wrong with me instantly.“A club?” I repeated. “You don’t do clubs.”A faint pause. Not hesitation—calculation.“I do,” he said, “when something important needs to be discussed.”My grip tightened around the phone. “Important how?”“You ask too many questions,” he replied mildly.“That’s because you never give answers.”Another pause. Longer this time.“This is not a conversation to have over the phone,” he said. “Come to the club.”I exhaled slowly. “You summoned
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