Todos os capítulos de Goodbye, Mr. Wrong: The Heiress Returns: Capítulo 71 - Capítulo 80

Desmond’s POVI was twelve the first time my father decided to “test” me outside the house.By then, I already knew the rules. Speak only when spoken to. Don’t flinch. Don’t break. Don’t show softness — because softness, according to him, was the first crack in a man’s armor.But that day, things felt different from the moment he called me.“Get dressed,” he said. “We’re going out.”No explanation. No hint. Just command.My mother had been slicing fruit in the kitchen. The knife slipped when she heard him. I didn’t understand why her hands shook, or why she looked at me like she wanted to pull me close but didn’t dare. She pressed the napkin into my palm before I followed him out.“Avoid making him upset,” she whispered. “Please.”Please. As if I had ever been in control of that.We drove for almost an hour, the silence between us thick enough to choke on. He didn’t look at me, not once. His mind was elsewhere, on whatever plan he had formed that he expected me to fall in line with.W

Desmond’s POV The drive to the office passed in a blur of red lights and impatient horns. LA traffic had a way of turning thoughts into noise, but mine refused to scatter. They stayed tight, coiled around that same uneasy feeling from earlier, like a thread tugging at my chest no matter how fast I drove. By the time I pulled into the underground parking lot, my jaw ached from how hard I’d been clenching it. I took the elevator straight up, nodded at the security desk, and walked into my office without slowing. The glass walls reflected a version of me that looked put together—tailored suit, steady stride, controlled expression. A lie I’d perfected over the years. I dropped my jacket on the chair and opened my laptop, forcing myself into work. Emails. Reports. Numbers that demanded attention. Normally, this was where I disappeared, where everything else went quiet. Today, nothing stuck. For the past few weeks, it’s been that way. A knock came at the door before I could sin

Desmond’s POV I stopped just inside the doorway. The first thing I registered was the sound—laughter. High, bright, unmistakably the children’s. It echoed through the penthouse, filling a space that usually felt too controlled, too quiet. My gaze lifted slowly, scanning the room. And then I saw her. My mother stood near the center of the living area, perfectly composed as always, one manicured hand resting lightly on Milo’s shoulder while Maya twirled excitedly around her. Max was mid-sentence, gesturing wildly as if recounting some dramatic story only he understood. And beside them— Sienna. She stood a little apart from the group, hands clasped in front of her, posture straight. Too straight. Her face was calm, but not relaxed. There was something in her expression I couldn’t immediately name—something guarded, almost brittle. The kind of look that settled heavy in your chest before you understood why. My stomach sank. “What is she doing here?” I muttered under my brea

Sienna’s POVHe stared at me like the words had physically struck him.For a second, Desmond didn’t move. Didn’t blink. His mouth parted slightly, like he was trying to catch something that had slipped past him too fast to understand.“Sienna,” he said slowly. “Why would you say that?”There was genuine shock in his eyes. Not anger. Not defensiveness. Shock—like the idea had never once crossed his mind that I could be the one to loosen my grip first.I swallowed, my throat tight. “Because it needed to be said.”He took a step toward me. Instinctively, I braced myself, even though a part of me still knew that when Desmond moved closer, it wasn’t to hurt. Still, tonight, closeness felt dangerous.“I never planned on backing out,” he said quietly. “Not like this. Not now. Not while we haven’t accomplished our plans, not even half.”“I know,” I replied, though the words felt thin. “That’s what makes this harder.”He shook his head once, frustration rippling through his usually controlled

Desmond’s POVI shouldn’t have agreed.The realization hit halfway through the drive back to the mansion, Isabella’s fingers loosely intertwined with mine, her presence warm and undeniably real—and still, painfully wrong. The city lights streaked past the window, neon reflections bleeding into one another, but my mind refused to settle. It was like I’d brought the noise with me from the club, lodged it somewhere deep in my chest.Isabella hummed softly beside me, a lazy, content sound. “You went quiet,” she said, tilting her head to study my face. “That’s not usually a good sign.”“Just thinking,” I replied.“About work?” she asked lightly.I didn’t answer immediately. Because if I did, I’d lie. And for once, I was too tired to pretend. “About things I shouldn’t be thinking about tonight.”Her lips curved into a knowing smile. “Then you’re doing tonight wrong.”I almost laughed. Almost. Instead, I tightened my grip on the steering wheel and pulled into the driveway. The gates recogniz