Goodbye, Mr. Wrong: The Heiress Returns의 모든 챕터: 챕터 151 - 챕터 160

Sylvia’s POV I hated that she still looked like that. Calm. Put together. Unbothered. The image of Sienna standing across from me in the mall refused to leave my head, replaying on a loop like an insult I couldn’t shut off. She hadn’t raised her voice. Hadn’t cried. Hadn’t begged or accused or made a scene. She’d just looked at me. Like I was small. I wrapped my fingers tighter around my coffee cup as Bella talked, nodding absently while my mind stayed somewhere else—back in that cosmetics aisle, back in the way Sienna’s eyes had held mine without flinching. “She always did that,” Bella was saying. “That quiet superiority thing. Like she was better than everyone without trying.” I latched onto that. “Yes,” I said sharply. “Exactly.” Bella glanced at me. “You’re still thinking about her, aren’t you?” We sat at a café overlooking the street, sunlight spilling across the table, the kind of place influencers loved. Bella fit right in—oversized sunglasses, glossy lips, a voice t

Gabriel Vale’s POVBad news had a sound.It wasn’t loud. It didn’t announce itself. It arrived quietly—like the click of a door you were sure you’d locked.That was the sound my office made when Vincent stepped in without knocking.I didn’t look up immediately. I was already irritated, already drowning in numbers that refused to align. Investors pulling out. Hospitals delaying payments. Afa’s charts sitting untouched on my desk because I couldn’t bring myself to read them again.“What,” I said flatly.Vincent closed the door behind him. Slowly. Too carefully.“He’s back,” he said.My pen paused mid-line.“Who?” I asked, even though my chest had already tightened.“Desmond Blackwood.”The click echoed.There it was.I leaned back in my chair, folding my hands together to keep them steady. “He was supposed to be in Italy.”“He was,” Vincent said. “Private jet landed six hours ago.”Of course it did.I exhaled through my nose. “And?”“And he didn’t go home.”That earned him my full atten

Desmond Blackwood’s POVMilan smelled of money, power, and something older—something that never died. The city’s streets were polished, crowded, alive, but I felt like an intruder in someone else’s story.My phone buzzed again. Sebastian.“Flight landed,” he said. “Cars waiting. Your father expects you in two hours.”I ran a hand through my hair, leaning against the cold marble of the airport terminal.“Two hours,” I repeated quietly. “Not negotiable?”Sebastian shook his head. “Not unless you want to forfeit everything.”I knew that already.My father’s words had been clear. No hesitation. No mercy. No excuses.“Desmond, do as I say, and the empire is yours. Fail me, and you’re nothing.”Nothing.The word pressed down on me like a stone.I wasn’t a boy anymore. I’d walked away from my father’s shadow before. I’d made decisions on my own. But now, sitting on the edge of a world that had been carved for me before I was born, I realized how heavy legacy could be.Sebastian’s voice pulle

Gabriel Vale’s POVThe office smelled like paper and stale ambition.I should have hated it. I should have left it behind. But the truth was, I needed it. Needed the control it gave me. Needed the illusion that I could still command something, anything, in a world that was rapidly slipping out of my hands.Vincent appeared at the door before I could even reach for my glass. His expression was tight. I didn’t need words to know he had updates.“She’s moving,” he said.I didn’t look up. “Who?”“Your wife,” he said quietly. “And Sienna.”I froze mid-reach for my pen. The weight of it hit me like cold water.“She’s… doing what?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.Vincent didn’t flinch. “She’s taking back the narrative. Not rushing, not panicking. But she’s making moves.”I closed my eyes briefly, running a hand over my face. So that’s it. That’s the shift.Desmond was gone. Milan. Out of reach. Too far to intimidate. Too far to control.Sylvia? Predictable, reckless, volatile. She

Desmond Blackwood’s POVThe villa was quiet, but the air inside was heavy with expectation.My father’s office smelled of leather, old wood, and authority—the kind that demanded obedience without question. I leaned against the edge of the desk, staring at the city through the tall windows. Milan sprawled beneath me, glittering with life, indifferent to the storm brewing inside these walls.Sebastian stood silently in the corner, tablet in hand. He didn’t speak, but I didn’t need words. He knew what this visit meant. What my father demanded. What was at stake.My phone buzzed. A message from Sienna.“Move carefully. They’re watching.”I read it twice, then locked the screen. Her words had the weight of both a warning and a promise. I couldn’t act recklessly—not even here, not even for my father.“You’ve been quiet,” my father’s voice cut through the room like a knife. I turned to see him leaning back in his chair, hands steepled. His eyes—cold, sharp, assessing—fixed on me. “You think