Semua Bab Goodbye, Mr. Wrong: The Heiress Returns: Bab 121 - Bab 126

Sienna’s POVThe penthouse was unusually quiet when I finally got a moment to speak to Desmond. The kids were occupied with their toys, quietly playing under the watchful eye of the cameras I had installed in every corner for emergencies. My heart was still racing from Sophia’s visit, and the weight of her warning pressed down on me like a stone.I found him in the living room, pacing slowly as though the tension in the air didn’t exist. His expression was calm—too calm, as if he already knew what I was going to say.“Desmond,” I began, my voice careful but firm. “We need to talk. Now.”He stopped pacing and looked at me, tilting his head slightly. “What’s going on, Sienna?” His voice was calm, almost casual, but I could see the flicker of curiosity in his eyes.I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay steady. “Sophia came here today. She… she tried to warn me to stay away from you.”His brows lifted slightly, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Warn you? Really?” He

Sienna’s POV The moment Desmond’s words settled between us, the house felt quieter than it had any right to be.Too quiet.The children’s laughter drifted in from the living room, bright and innocent, and it twisted something deep in my chest. They had no idea how close danger was circling us. No idea that their safety was being discussed like a chess move.I watched Desmond for a long second after he finished speaking, searching his face for hesitation. For doubt. For that familiar shadow of divided loyalty.But all I saw was resolve.It should’ve comforted me more than it did.“I want to believe you,” I said finally, pulling my hand from his gently, not angrily. “I really do. But belief isn’t what keeps us alive, Desmond. Preparation does.”His jaw tightened. “Then we prepare.”I nodded, stepping away to lean against the kitchen counter. My pulse was still racing, my mind replaying Sophia’s visit again and again—her measured tone, her polite smile, the sharp threat hidden beneath c

Desmond’s POVThe feed froze on the front door.My heart slammed so hard it hurt.“Switch cameras,” I barked, already pulling my phone. No signal. Of course. Whoever planned this had thought of everything—layers upon layers of isolation, precision disguised as patience.Sienna was breathing too fast. I reached for her hand without looking, grounding both of us. “They’re not alone,” I said, forcing calm into my voice. “Security protocol doesn’t fail that easily.”But even as I said it, the screen glitched again.The feed changed.Our youngest’s room.Empty.The bedspread rumpled. Curtains swaying slightly, as if someone had just passed through.Sienna made a sound—sharp, broken—but she didn’t cry. She straightened, spine rigid, eyes blazing with something far more dangerous than fear.“Open the door,” she said to the camera. To them.The familiar voice chuckled softly. “Still negotiating. That’s why you lose.”“Where are my children?” she demanded.A pause. Just long enough to be delib