All Chapters of Regretful Heart: CEO's Tears Over Her Pregnancy: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Vienna’s POVI stayed focused on piping the glossy glaze over the éclairs, not even lifting my head. My voice was calm, measured."Baking’s a craft," I said lightly. "In the end, it’s the customer’s reactions that matter more than any diploma on a wall."Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the subtle shift in Ashley’s expression—her smile faltering just for a split second before she quickly recovered."Well," she said, brushing imaginary lint off her sleeve, "I guess there’s some truth to that."She paused, like she was debating whether to say more. Then, with faux casualness, she added, "Fred said the same thing, actually. He told me once my soufflé reminded him of his mother’s. Can you believe that?" She gave a small laugh, trying to sound modest, though the pride in her voice was unmistakable. I gave her a polite nod, still not looking up."But still," she added quickly, her tone sharpening just a touch, "a formal baking education is important. It’s the foundation, you know? Pass

Vienna's POVI dropped everything—spatula, gloves, even my apron—and bolted from the kitchen, my heart pounding in my ears. Nora was right behind me, her shoes slapping against the floor as she kept pace.“What a nightmare!” I shouted over my shoulder as we dashed toward the private dining room. We burst through the doors moments later. The scene before me froze my blood.A middle-aged man lay slumped on a velvet sofa. His face was flushed—a deep, terrifying shade of purple. His eyes bulged, throat grotesquely swollen, and his hands clawed desperately at his chest. His wife knelt beside him, sobbing uncontrollably. She looked up as we entered, her cheeks mascara-stained. Her voice was shrill, cutting through the chaos like shattered glass. “He trusted you!” she screamed, pointing directly at me with shaking fingers. “They said you'd make them gluten free!”“I—what? I wasn’t told—” My voice faltered, but it didn’t matter. She couldn’t hear anything over her grief.The restaurant’s

Vienna’s POV"Don’t worry, Vienna, that won’t be necessary," Fred said, lifting a hand in a calming gesture as I stood there, still reeling from everything. "Expenses like these are calculated into Taste Royalty’s monthly risk budget. The guest is stable now, and the restaurant’s insurance will take care of the rest."I tried to swallow the lump forming in my throat. "Still," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, "I want to help somehow. I don’t usually make mistakes like this—"Fred gave me a long, searching look. "That’s just it," he said gently. "You don’t. Which is why I think something’s been off lately. You seem… distracted. Maybe overworked.""I’m not," I replied quickly. "I promise, I’ve been focused. I double-check everything. Triple-check, even."From the side, Ashley let out a soft hum of amusement. "Maybe the problem is that you’re too confident in your skills," she said, her voice sugar-sweet but laced with poison. "Even machines need a reset and upgrade now and then."

Vienna’s POVAshley’s eyes widened. “Suspended? Fred—”“Don’t,” he snapped. “Do not argue right now. A guest nearly died. And whether by negligence or intent, you failed to pass on vital allergy information.”She turned to me then, her eyes blazing. “You’ve wanted me out from the beginning, haven’t you?”I stared back, calm but unyielding. “I wanted the truth out. If that takes you with it, that’s not my fault.”Fred nodded toward the door. “Go pack up your things. HR will follow up with you later today.”Her eyes shimmered with tears as she looked at Fred, wide-eyed, as though he’d just betrayed her in the cruelest way.“You can’t be serious,” she said, voice trembling. “Fred… we grew up together. I’ve been by your side through everything. And now you’re humiliating me in front of—” her voice broke, and she turned sharply to glare at me, “her?”Fred didn’t flinch. “This isn’t personal, Ashley. You know this is about the allergy slip.”“Oh, please,” she scoffed, her voice turning shril

Vienna’s POVWarren stood frozen, momentarily speechless. His brow furrowed as if he was grappling with the weight of my words. I took a deep breath and stepped closer, lowering my voice to avoid causing even more of a scene at my workplace."You always do this," I said softly, the hurt threading through my tone. "You never ask me. You just take what others say and run with it—whether it’s Desiree or Ashley or whoever else happens to be whispering poison in your ear."Warren’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond.Fred, sensing the tension, awkwardly turned away and busied himself by rearranging a tray of utensils. His movements were slow, deliberate—clearly for show. He was listening.I gestured toward the metal worktable, where the crumpled order slip and my phone still lay—evidence laid bare. "Do you even know what happened to me today?" I continued, my voice trembling with frustration. "A man nearly suffocated because Ashley deliberately threw away a critical allergy warning. It’