《Goodbye, Mr. Wrong: The Heiress Returns》全部章節：第 161 章 - 第 170 章

Sienna’s POVThe city was buzzing, but I moved through it like I belonged to a different rhythm.I wasn’t here to shop. I wasn’t here to be noticed. I was here to observe, to understand, and to plan. Every person in the crowd, every whisper, every glance—it all mattered. I had learned that the world revealed its secrets to those willing to see them.Gabriel.I knew he was moving. I could feel the undercurrent of his attempts to regain control, to pull the strings that he thought I had lost. But he underestimated me. Always did. He believed fear could shape me, that manipulation would bend me. He didn’t realize that I was no longer vulnerable in the way I once had been.Sylvia.I caught her in the periphery, the way she lingered near a boutique window, scanning the crowd as if she were hunting. Her bitterness was palpable, sharp enough to taste. She hated me, of that I was certain—but she feared me even more. Fear was a better weapon than hatred. And she didn’t have it in her arsenal.

Desmond Blackwood’s POVThe villa felt smaller than it had ever been, crowded not with people, but with tension. My mind raced—my father’s orders, the mafia business in Italy, the stakes I couldn’t ignore. But none of that mattered the moment I saw her.Sienna.She stood there, calm, controlled, but radiating a presence that made everything else in the world fade into insignificance. Her hair caught the light, soft shadows framing her face, and for a moment… nothing else existed.I closed the distance between us without thinking, my every step fueled by a need I could no longer ignore.“Sienna,” I whispered, voice low, almost desperate.She looked at me, eyes wide—not with fear, not with hesitation—but with understanding. I could see it: she knew how I felt. She knew the war inside me, the pull between duty and desire. And she didn’t judge. She didn’t retreat.I reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. My fingers lingered, tracing the line of her jaw, memorizing eve

Desmond Blackwood’s POVThe Milan night was quiet, almost deceivingly so. From the balcony, I could see the city sprawled beneath me, elegant and indifferent, lights flickering like distant stars. Everything seemed calm, yet the storm inside me was relentless.Sebastian’s presence was steady, almost unnervingly silent, as he watched me navigate the tension that had built up over weeks. My father’s orders weren’t just instructions—they were threats, ultimatums, a constant reminder that my every move had consequences far beyond my control.And yet… Sienna.Her image lingered in my mind, unshakable. The kiss we had shared, the way her hands had anchored me, the way her eyes had mirrored my own feelings—it was all consuming. Every rational thought, every strategy I had meticulously crafted, clashed violently with the pull of her presence.I ran a hand through my hair, frustration coiling tighter and tighter in my chest. My father expected obedience. Ruthless, unquestioning obedience. He d

Sylvia’s POVThe mall was too crowded, too bright, too cheerful—but it didn’t matter. I didn’t come here to shop. I came to watch. To observe. To wait for the perfect moment to strike.Sienna Johnson. Or should I say, Sienna Marino—the name still twisted my stomach into knots. She smiled, waved at some charity worker, or perhaps it was a photographer—I didn’t care. Everything about her infuriated me. Her composure, her calm, her damn unshakable aura of control. It was enough to make anyone crumble—but not me. I wouldn’t crumble. I would destroy.Bella walked beside me, chatting idly about a new café opening, but I wasn’t listening. My mind was elsewhere, replaying every moment I had witnessed, every success she had stolen from me. She thought she was clever, untouchable, untangled from the chaos she left behind. She thought Desmond’s loyalty would be unshakable. She thought she had me beaten.I clenched my fists beneath my coat. Not yet. Not while I still had tools to use, people to m

Desmond Blackwood’s POVThe private jet hummed beneath me, a steady rhythm that did nothing to calm the storm inside my chest. Italy wasn’t just calling; it was demanding. My father’s voice echoed in my mind, sharp and relentless. Do what is required, or your inheritance—and your future—are gone.I stared out at the darkening clouds below, twisting and turbulent, a mirror of my thoughts. Everything in my life had been a game of strategy, control, and patience. Rules I followed meticulously. Plans I executed with precision. And yet… Sienna had shifted the balance.Her image came unbidden. Calm, calculating, untouchable. She didn’t just survive the chaos; she thrived in it. And that kiss—the one she had given me—the one that had burned across my lips, leaving no room for denial—had changed everything.I closed my eyes. Desire, fear, strategy—all of it collided in a way that made the familiar rigidity of my mind tremble.Sebastian cleared his throat quietly from the seat beside me. “Sir,