All Chapters of Goodbye, Mr. Wrong: The Heiress Returns: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

The gym usually helped.The steady rhythm of weights, the burn in my muscles, the sharp focus it demanded—those things were supposed to quiet my mind. They always had. Today, they didn’t. Even after my workout ended, after I wiped the sweat from my face and changed into clean clothes, Sienna was still there. Not physically. Worse. In my head.The way she’d looked at me yesterday replayed over and over. Or rather, the way she hadn’t looked at me.No warmth. No softness. No trace of what we once were.Just distance.That was what hurt the most.I drove home in silence, the city passing by in a blur. My phone buzzed once on the passenger seat. I didn’t check it. If it was work, it could wait. If it was Sylvia… I wasn’t ready.When I got home, the house felt too quiet and too loud at the same time. The kind of silence that pressed on your chest instead of calming you.Sylvia was in the sitting room.She sat on the couch with her legs crossed, a small tray in front of her. Bottles of nail

Sienna’s POVSaturday mornings used to feel lighter.Slow breakfasts. Music playing softly in the background. Desmond teasing the kids while I pretended not to smile too much. Now, Saturdays felt like empty space I didn’t know how to fill.I stood in the kitchen watching Maya pour cereal for Milo while Max argued about which spoon was his. Normal. Loud. Familiar. And yet, everything felt slightly off, like a picture hung crooked on the wall.There was still no message from Desmond.Not good morning.Not I landed safely.Not I miss you—not today.I checked my phone anyway. Again. Nothing.“Mom,” Milo said, mouth full. “Are we going anywhere today?”“Yes,” I replied, forcing brightness into my voice. “We’re going to my fashion house.”Maya’s eyes lit up. “Really? The big building with the mirrors?”“That’s the one,” I said.Max frowned. “Why can’t we stay home?”“Because I don’t have a nanny today,” I said simply. “And I need to check on work.”Milo grinned. “Can we draw there?”“You ca

Sienna’s POVThe house was finally quiet.Not the peaceful kind of quiet—just the exhausted silence that settles in after a long day of pretending everything is fine. Maya and Milo were asleep, their bedroom door slightly open, nightlight glowing softly. Max had fallen asleep on the couch with a book on his chest, stubborn as always, refusing to go to bed until his eyes betrayed him.I covered him with a blanket and brushed his hair back gently.“Goodnight, my love,” I whispered.I turned off the lights and walked into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as the weight of the day finally caught up with me. My phone sat on the table, face down. I hadn’t picked it up in over an hour.I didn’t want to see Desmond’s name again.The picture still burned behind my eyes. Him in that club. Relaxed. Smiling. Close to her. While I spent my Saturday holding myself together for three children who didn’t understand why their father was suddenly a ghost.I poured myself a glass of water and dra

Gabriel’s POVThe house felt tense even before anyone spoke.I woke up with that familiar tightness in my chest, the kind that told me the day would be difficult before it even began. Aria was still asleep when I checked on her, her breathing steady, her fever finally gone. I kissed her forehead softly, relief washing through me.At least she was better.Everything else, though, was falling apart.I stepped out of the bedroom and found Sylvia in the kitchen. She stood by the counter scrolling through her phone, already dressed, makeup done, bag beside her like she was halfway out the door.“Morning,” I said.She didn’t look up. “Morning.”No warmth. No concern.“Aria’s better,” I said, hoping—stupidly—that it might spark something.“That’s good,” she replied flatly.I waited. She didn’t ask how bad it had been. Didn’t ask if Aria needed to see the doctor. Didn’t even glance toward her room.“You weren’t here last night,” I said quietly.She sighed dramatically and finally looked at me

Desmond’s POVHer message sat on my screen like a verdict.I need clarity. Not fragments. If there’s something bigger happening, I deserve to know. I can’t keep living in uncertainty.I read it three times.Then a fourth.Each time, it hit harder.Clarity.She wasn’t asking for comfort anymore. Or reassurances. Or soft words to hold her over until I felt ready. She was asking for the truth. All of it. Or she was done.I set the phone down slowly and leaned back in the chair, staring at the ceiling of the hotel room. The place smelled faintly of cologne and expensive soap—nothing human, nothing warm. Just another temporary space I didn’t belong to.This was the moment I’d been avoiding.The moment where silence stopped being protection and became cruelty.I thought of Sienna’s face when she listened—really listened. How she didn’t interrupt. How she waited, even when the truth scared her. I’d taken advantage of that patience. Mistaken it for endless understanding.I stood and walked to