Todos os capítulos de DARLA FIN:THE HEIRESS'S WICKED REBIRTH: Capítulo 211 - Capítulo 220

Richard’s POVThe drive to Vincent’s place felt longer than usual.The city lights blurred past my windshield, red and white streaks cutting through the darkness, but my mind wasn’t on the road. It was on Melanie. On the way she looked at me. On the way she spoke like everything was normal when nothing was.Pretending was exhausting.Keeping my face calm, my voice steady, my reactions controlled, it felt like I was carrying a weight on my chest that grew heavier with every mile.By the time I pulled into Vincent’s driveway, my jaw ached from how tightly I’d been clenching it.Vincent opened the door almost immediately, like he’d been expecting me. One look at my face and his expression shifted.“Bad night?” he asked, stepping aside to let me in.“You could say that,” I muttered, walking straight past him into the living room.I dropped onto the couch and leaned forward, elbows on my knees, rubbing my hands together slowly. Vincent didn’t rush me. He poured a drink, handed it to me,

Richard’s POV“No,” I said after a beat. “You’re not.”That was true. I had already been disturbed long before she called.“I was actually thinking of calling you tomorrow morning,” I added carefully.She chuckled softly. “Then I guess I beat you to it.”“Seems like it.”There was a brief pause, just long enough to make me wonder if she was choosing her next words carefully.“Are you free?” she asked. “I have something new I want to show you. Only if you don’t mind.”Something new.My fingers tightened slightly around the phone. Every instinct told me to slow this down, to push it to morning, to keep control of the situation. But another part of me, the tired part, the part that wanted answers, knew I wouldn’t sleep anyway.“I don’t mind,” I said finally.Her tone shifted, satisfied but restrained. “Alright then. I’m at home this time. I’ll send you my address.”“Okay,” I replied. “That’s fine.”She didn’t linger on the call. Just a soft, “See you soon,” before hanging up.The line

Melanie's POVI stood by the window long after the sound of the gate closing echoed through the compound. Richard’s car rolled in smoothly, headlights cutting through the evening gloom, familiar and yet suddenly foreign. Relief fluttered briefly in my chest, he was home, but it didn’t last.He didn’t come out.The engine went off, but the door stayed shut. Minutes passed. One. Two. Three. My fingers tightened around the curtain as unease crept in. Richard had never done this before. Never sat in the car like he was gathering courage to enter his own house.What’s wrong?My mind raced, tumbling over every conversation we’d had, every sharp word, every silence. Maybe he was on a call. Maybe he was just exhausted. But the longer he stayed there, the louder my heart beat.I turned away from the window, decision already made, and headed downstairs.I was halfway down when I heard the car door open. I paused, listening. Footsteps followed. By the time I reached the living room, the fro

Richard’s POVI waited, tense and alert, until midnight. The house was silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioner. Melanie’s breathing was even, I assumed she was asleep. I shifted carefully, planning to get up, to give myself some space from the mess of emotions tangled around her.But then, she moved. Her thigh pressed against mine, a quiet but firm barrier, as if she knew I was about to leave. I froze for a moment, my hand brushing over her leg in a gentle, almost instinctive caress. The warmth and weight of her presence were magnetic, pulling me back into the chaos I had been trying to escape.After a long moment, I gently shifted her leg aside and carefully stood. I moved to the living room, my mind racing. Mandy. Why was she here? After everything that had happened at her place, why was she in my house tonight?I poured a cup of coffee in the kitchen, needing the bitter taste to ground me. Then I made my way toward the guest room, where I assumed Mandy was sleep

Melanie’s POVI lay on the bed for a long moment, staring at the ceiling, a small smile curving my lips despite everything. For the first time in days, maybe weeks, Richard had finally softened. He hadn’t pushed me away this morning. He hadn’t snapped. He hadn’t looked at me like I was a stranger.It felt like progress.I knew I had made mistakes, terrible ones. Some he knew about. Some I prayed he never would. But this morning felt like proof that my marriage wasn’t beyond saving. I was fixing it. Slowly, painfully, but surely.With that thought giving me strength, I pushed myself off the bed. I didn’t want to be late for today’s event. The Sinclair project resuming was important, and I needed to be there looking composed, confident, like a woman whose life was perfectly in order.I took a quick shower, letting the warm water calm my racing thoughts. I chose a fitted dress, elegant but not loud, and applied just enough makeup to hide the exhaustion beneath my eyes. When I looked