Alle Kapitel von Her Return: His Regret : Kapitel 21 – Kapitel 26

Destiny POVMonday morning hit me like a cold shower I hadn’t asked for.I’d spent Sunday in a haze, half-asleep on the couch with Kevin curled against my side, watching cartoons I wasn’t really seeing. William had come home from his meeting with takeout and that quiet, steady smile he always wore when he knew I was fraying at the edges. He didn’t push. Didn’t ask why I’d come home smelling faintly of hotel soap and regret. He just kissed my temple, ordered pizza, and let me breathe. I loved him for that. Loved how he made space for my storms without trying to fix them. But the guilt wasn’t about betraying him, not really. William never demanded pieces of me he didn’t already have. The guilt was deeper, uglier: I was afraid I was losing the one thing I’d sworn I’d never lose again. Control.By the time I walked into the firm, the weekend felt like a bruise under my skin. Tender, hidden, throbbing every time I moved wrong. I wore a high-necked blouse to cover the faint marks Ronan h

Third POV Jules had been watching the hallway like it was a tennis match.He’d seen Andrea storm out of Destiny’s office earlier, face red, eyes wet, coat flapping like she was trying to outrun her own embarrassment. He’d kept his head down after that, pretending to review the Nordic shipping file for the third time. But when Ronan emerged from the CEO’s suite ten minutes later, Jules couldn’t help it. He stared.Ronan wasn’t walking. He was floating. Shoulders loose, mouth curved in a stupid, dazed smile that looked like it had been superglued there. His tie was crooked, hair slightly mussed, and there was a faint red mark on his lower lip that hadn’t been there at the morning stand-up. Jules recognized that look. He’d seen it before, years ago, at Ronan and Destiny’s courthouse wedding, when Ronan had stared at her like she’d personally hung the moon.Jules waited exactly ninety seconds before he sauntered over to Ronan’s desk.Ronan had already collapsed into his chair, head tip

Third POV The elevator doors opened onto the rooftop, and for a moment Destiny simply stood there, letting the night air brush against her skin.The space was everything Ronan had promised and more. A private terrace perched high above SoHo, glass railings offering an unobstructed 360-degree view of Manhattan’s glittering sprawl. The Brooklyn Bridge glowed in the distance like a string of amber lights suspended over black water. A single table waited near the edge—candlelit, white roses in a low crystal vase, two flutes already poured from a chilled bottle of 1996 Dom Pérignon. Soft jazz drifted from hidden speakers, the kind of music that felt like velvet against bare skin. Beyond the table, a glass door led to an adjoining suite: king bed visible through sheer curtains, jacuzzi bubbling quietly on the private terrace extension.Ronan stood by the railing, back to her at first. Black suit, no tie, shirt open at the throat. When he turned, his eyes found her immediately, and lit.H