Lahat ng Kabanata ng Regretful Heart: CEO's Tears Over Her Pregnancy: Kabanata 131 - Kabanata 140

Warren’s POVFriday night crept in like a storm cloud. I stayed at the office as late as I possibly could. Weekends used to mean something. A break. A breather. A chance to laugh, let loose, recharge. But now? They were a hollow stretch of hours I didn’t know how to fill without her.As I walked to my car, my phone buzzed in my pocket. A text from Cole."Still no news on Vienna. Airport staff won’t budge. Keep you posted."I blinked at the screen, confused for half a second, then winced. Oh right. That drunk phone call."Shit," I muttered aloud, dragging a hand through my hair. If even Cole, my best private investigator, couldn’t crack it… Desperation curdled in my stomach. I needed something, anything to distract myself before I did something stupid.I scrolled through my contacts and hit call."Noah," I said the second he answered. "Hey, man. You up for Friday night drinks?"There was a pause. A long one."Warren…" Noah’s voice sounded cautious. "Look, I hate to say this, but after

Vienna’s POVBella paused, her voice weighted with worry. "It happened late last night. He’s been in the hospital ever since. We… we haven’t had any updates yet."My stomach twisted. "Warren, that damned idiot!" I hissed. "How could he do this? What was he thinking?!""I don’t think he was thinking," Bella said quietly. "Noah was there. He said Warren looked… hollow. Like a ghost of himself. All anger, all questions. Like he was unraveling right in front of him. I think he’s really lost it, V."A wave of guilt crashed over me, tangled with frustration. "God, I never wanted this. I never wanted any of you to get caught in the crossfire.""Hey," she said gently. "You’ve got nothing to apologize for. He made his own choices. I didn’t want to tell you—really didn’t—because I didn’t want to spoil your time in Paris. But I thought you’d wanna know.""Bella," I sighed, my voice softening, "Don’t ever think you can’t tell me something. You did the right thing."There was a pause on her end. "S

Desiree’s POVI was over the moon. Things were going way better than I’d ever dared to expect. Warren and I sat at the kitchen counter, sharing cupcakes. We discussed plans for Paris like a pair of starry-eyed siblings on a sugar high. He even laughed—really laughed—for the first time in weeks.When he left for a jog to clear his head, I all but skipped to the living room, phone in hand. I dialed with trembling fingers."Mom!" I said the second she answered, barely able to contain myself."Desiree?" Monica asked, cautious. "You sound… suspiciously excited. What happened?"I bit my lip to keep from squealing. "Warren is taking me to Paris."There was a beat of silence. "He is?" she asked slowly, like she didn’t trust her ears."Yes! Things are moving much faster than we thought. I think… I think it’s time for the next phase of the plan."A long pause."Are you… sure about this?" she finally asked, her voice softer now. There was a tremor behind the words, almost like fear—or guilt."Ye

Vienna’s POVAnother school week dawned, with the scent of autumn in the Paris air. But instead of nerves buzzing in my stomach, I felt light now. Energized. I was finally starting to feel like I belonged. Le Cordon Bleu had already taught me so much. Zanele and I strolled side by side through the courtyard toward our next class, her colorful scarf fluttering behind her.Just as we turned the corner leading to our classroom, the air seemed to shift. "Well, well. Look who it is," came a cold voice.Laurent.He and Chloé were leaning against the wall. Laurent smirked, arms crossed. "Bonjour, ladies," he drawled. "Excited for another week of impressing the professors, hmm?"I glanced at Zanele, then kept walking. "Excuse us," I said calmly.But Chloé stepped directly in front of me, fake-pouting. "You know, Vienna, it’s not really fair to the rest of us, is it?" Her eyes flicked to Laurent. "Some of us are trying to earn our grades the normal way."Zanele’s brows furrowed. "What’s that

Vienna’s POVThe next day, after school, Zanele and I went apartment hunting. We zigzagged across half of Paris on foot and by metro, chasing down leads from listings that looked halfway decent. But each place we visited was another disappointment.One had black mold blooming behind the kitchen cabinets. Another had a ceiling so low I couldn’t stand upright in half the space. A third only had a grimy shared toilet that smelled like mildew and despair."All of them are terrible," I muttered as we walked down yet another narrow stairwell. "And way overpriced."Zanele sighed. "I’m not letting you rent one of these shoeboxes with ghosts, Vienna. You can’t settle for any of these."We did the same thing the next day, and the next. Each evening I returned to her dorm, more defeated than the last. By the end of the week, the hope I’d clung to had all but vanished.I was bone-tired. My back ached from the rock-hard dorm mattress, and even Zanele’s endless supply of humor and chocolate couldn’t