All Chapters of Goodbye, Mr. Wrong: The Heiress Returns: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Gabriel’s POV“I don’t think it’s time,” I muttered, dragging a hand down my face as I paced the narrow floor of my dorm room. “What if she says no?”Sylvia sat on the edge of my bed like she owned the place, arms folded tightly across her chest, one brow arched. She’d come over late, uninvited as usual, carrying that same impatient energy she always had when she’d already decided how things were going to go.“You have to ask her, Gabriel,” she snapped. “What exactly are you waiting for? A written invitation?”I stopped pacing and looked at her. “It’s not that simple. What if she suspects something? I mean… she’s not stupid, Sylvia. What if she figures it out?”Sylvia scoffed and rolled her eyes dramatically. “Please. Sienna? Naïve doesn’t even begin to describe her. She helped you with your forms without asking a single question, remember? That girl trusts too easily. And besides,” she added with a calculating glint in her eyes, “I suspect she’s from a wealthy family. .”I frowned. “

Sienna’s POVWe had breakfast together like a happy family.The thought scared me as much as it warmed me.Sunlight spilled through the kitchen windows, bathing the long dining table in gold. The triplets sat side by side, their little legs swinging beneath their chairs, their voices overlapping each other in the eager way only children could manage so perfectly. Cereal bowls clinked against spoons. Orange juice was already half gone, and pancakes were eaten in half. Crumbs scattered everywhere like proof that life had happened here this morning.And Desmond… He sat at the head of the table, relaxed, smiling, listening to their endless stories like they mattered more than anything else in the world.Like they mattered more than anything.I stood by the counter for a moment, holding onto my mug as if it were an anchor, just watching them. Watching how easily he filled the space that was supposed to belong to their father. Watching how naturally the children leaned into him. Watching h

Gabriel’s POVI sat in my office staring at the screen like it had personally betrayed me. Six units. That was it. Six miserable, useless units sold. I refreshed the page again, even though I already knew what I would see. My finger hit the screen harder than necessary, like I could force the numbers to change through willpower alone. Nothing. The dashboard blinked back at me mockingly. Sales summary: 6 units sold. And then, like the universe was not done humiliating me, I noticed something else. Two returns. Not only were people not buying it, they were sending it back. “Two returns?” I muttered aloud. “Two?” I leaned back in my chair and pressed my fingers into my eyes. My head throbbed like it had a heartbeat of its own. Weeks, no, months of work, millions poured into production, nights spent hunched over prototypes and code and blueprints, all of it reduced to six stubborn numbers that refused to grow.A knock came at the door. Before I could answer, it opened. “I’m back, Gabe

Gabriel’s POVBy the time I pulled into the school parking lot, my hands were already shaking.I didn’t even bother locking the car properly. I slammed the door shut and marched straight to the front desk, my heart trying to pound its way out of my chest.“My daughter, Aria Gabriel,” I said, breathless. “I was told she collapsed during assembly.”The woman at the desk didn’t waste time checking anything.“This way, sir,” she said gently.She led me down a quiet hallway that smelled like antiseptic and floor cleaner. Every step felt too slow. Every second weighed like a year. My mind raced ahead of my body, imagining outcomes I didn’t want to think about.When she pushed open the door to the sick bay, I saw her immediately.Aria lay on one of the narrow beds, the white sheet pulled up to her waist. Her school uniform was slightly wrinkled, her hair not as neat as usual. Her face looked pale, but her eyes were open.Open.I exhaled sharply, the kind of breath that only comes when you di

Sienna’s POVToday was supposed to be a workday. A normal, productive day. The kind that kept my mind busy and my heart quiet.I woke up early, long before my alarm had the chance to disturb the fragile peace I’d found in sleep. The penthouse was unusually quiet for a house that sheltered three children with lungs powerful enough to shake walls with laughter. They were already at school. Desmond had insisted on driving them himself that morning, saying he wanted to “steal a few extra dad points before work ruined his mood.” He’d handed me a quick kiss on the temple before leaving, smelling faintly of his cologne and coffee, and told me not to forget to eat.As if I ever forgot when he hovered like an overprotective shadow.I took my time getting ready, moving around the bedroom we’d built together, piece by piece—some of it luxury, some of it comfort, all of it ours. The soft light filtering through the curtains turned the cream walls golden. Outside, the city was alive and selfish an