All Chapters of Goodbye, Mr. Wrong: The Heiress Returns: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

256 Chapters

Closure

Desmond’s POV I was leaving the next morning when he approached me, a cup of coffee in his hand. The light shone on the scar on his forehead, giving him a more dangerous edge. “See me in my study,” he said. “Now.” The fire came out of nowhere. One second my father was calm—measured, almost reflective—and the next his voice cracked through the room like a whip, sharp enough to make the walls feel thinner. “She is Matteo’s daughter.” The words landed heavy, final. I stopped pacing. “What?” I turned fully toward him. He watched me closely, as if gauging how much damage the truth had already done. “Sit down, Desmond,” he said. “If I’m going to tell you this story, I need you to hear it properly.” Reluctantly, I sat. He exhaled slowly, like a man opening a door he’d kept bolted shut for decades. “I met matteo,” he paused then looked at me his eyes still cold “….or Sienna’s father in high school. Long before money. Before power. Before enemies.” I frowned. “You never men

Hidden Treasures

Desmond’s POVHe asked me to stay behind, saying there was something he wanted to show me.I agreed without thinking much of it. At the time, it didn’t feel important. Yes, I was invested—curious, even—but I treated everything lightly, like none of it truly mattered. Like I could walk away whenever I wanted. That illusion didn’t last long. With each passing day, whatever this was started digging its claws into me, tightening its grip until I couldn’t tell when indifference turned into obsession.I stepped out of the guest room, my footsteps echoing faintly down the marble hallway. There were other rooms I could’ve stayed in—larger, more private, probably better—but I had chosen the guest room deliberately. It felt neutral. Temporary. Like a reminder that I didn’t belong here, no matter how much blood tied me to this place.My throat was dry, painfully so, and I headed toward the kitchen to get water. The house was unusually quiet. No maids in sight, no murmured conversations, no soft

Crept In

Desmond’s POVI left the room the same way I’d entered it—quietly, carefully, like the walls themselves might remember me if I wasn’t cautious enough.The door clicked shut behind me, soft but final. My pulse didn’t slow. If anything, it grew louder, thudding in my ears as I walked back down the corridor. The house was still silent, but now it felt different—watchful. As though it knew I had crossed a line.I didn’t go back to the guest room. I couldn’t sit still. My hands were trembling, my thoughts spiraling, every image from those photographs replaying behind my eyes.My father’s smile.That man’s face.The resemblance that refused to be coincidence.I reached the far end of the hallway and leaned against the wall, dragging in a slow breath. Whatever he wanted to “show” me… it wasn’t going to be simple. It never was with him. Nothing was ever just what it seemed.My phone vibrated in my hand, startling me.Sebastian.I stared at his name for a moment before answering.“Hey,” I said

Invitation to the Club

Desmond’s POVMy phone rang again before I could convince myself to calm down.I really didn’t want to answer but I answered anyway.“Yes?” I said.“Where are you?” my father asked.His voice was even, unhurried—like he wasn’t calling to disrupt my entire night.“At the house,” I replied. “You told me to stay.”“And I still mean that,” he said. “But not in that room.”I straightened. “What does that mean?”“It means,” he continued calmly, “that I need you to come meet me.”I frowned. “Meet you where?”“A club.”The word sat wrong with me instantly.“A club?” I repeated. “You don’t do clubs.”A faint pause. Not hesitation—calculation.“I do,” he said, “when something important needs to be discussed.”My grip tightened around the phone. “Important how?”“You ask too many questions,” he replied mildly.“That’s because you never give answers.”Another pause. Longer this time.“This is not a conversation to have over the phone,” he said. “Come to the club.”I exhaled slowly. “You summoned

Business Trip

Sienna’s POVMornings in our house were always loud.Not the chaotic kind—no shouting, no slammed doors—but the soft, busy noise of life moving forward whether you were ready or not. The hum of the kettle in the kitchen. The rustle of school uniforms. Milo’s constant tapping of his feet against the floor like he was powered by something invisible. Max humming off-key while trying to shove one sock into another. Maya standing perfectly still, arms lifted like a little queen waiting to be dressed.I fastened the last button on Maya’s cardigan, smoothing the fabric down her tiny shoulders. “There,” I said softly. “All done.”She frowned at her reflection in the hallway mirror, then turned to me, dark eyes too observant for someone her age. “Daddy didn’t help today.”My fingers stilled.Milo snorted from the couch. “Daddy never helps in the morning.”“That’s not true,” I said automatically, though my voice lacked conviction. “Daddy helps when he can.”Maya tilted her head, curls bouncing.

Bills Cleared

Sienna’s POVThe fashion house smelled like clean linen, espresso, and quiet ambition.It always grounded me.I stepped out of the elevator into controlled chaos—designers bent over tables, assistants gliding between racks with tablets pressed to their chests, the low murmur of fabric being discussed like it was alive. Floor-to-ceiling windows flooded the space with late-morning light, turning silk and satin into liquid gold.“Good morning, Mrs. Hale,” my receptionist said, already standing.“Sienna,” I corrected gently, as always. Titles made distance. I needed none of that here.She smiled. “Your office is ready.”I nodded and walked in, slipping into the version of myself that didn’t crack under unanswered calls. The CEO. The woman who signed contracts without shaking hands. The woman who knew how to command a room without raising her voice.I set my bag down, shrugged out of my coat, and stared at the city beyond the glass. Somewhere out there, my husband was either exactly where

Curiosity Piqued

Sienna’s POVThe waiter hesitated, clearly uncomfortable. “I’m really sorry, ma’am. I was instructed not to disclose their identity.”“That’s not how restaurants work,” I said quietly, though my pulse had begun to race. “Someone doesn’t just pay for my lunch and vanish into mystery.”He offered a sympathetic smile. “They insisted.”I exhaled slowly, steadying myself. Drawing attention wouldn’t help. Still, unease crawled up my spine as I gathered my purse.“Wait,” he said quickly, lowering his voice. “There’s… something else.”My fingers tightened around the strap. “What kind of something else?”He glanced around once more before reaching into his apron and pulling out a slim cream-colored envelope. No logo. No name. Just my first name written across the front in careful, deliberate handwriting.Sienna.My heart skipped.“They asked me to give this to you after you finished eating,” he explained. “They were very clear about that.”“Did you see them?” I asked.He shook his head. “They

Stuck In The Middle

Sienna’s POV My phone buzzed again in my hand. Kingsley’s name glowed on the screen, the three typing dots disappearing, replaced by a message. Desmond isn’t in UK. He’s in Italy. I stared at the words like they might rearrange themselves into something that made sense. Italy? My breath stuttered. That wasn’t just a weekend trip or a convenient excuse. That was distance. Planning. Secrecy. I looked up sharply at Gabriel, who was watching my face a little too closely, like he was reading reactions instead of expressions. “You okay?” he asked, concern slipping into his voice. “No,” I said honestly, my pulse pounding in my ears. My fingers moved before my brain caught up, typing back to Kingsley. Italy? Since when? The reply came almost immediately. Two days ago. He didn’t want it getting out yet. Didn’t want it getting out. The words echoed, stacking on top of the unease already coiled tight in my chest. Desmond didn’t disappear without a reason. And he defi

Unread

Siennna’s POVThe message sat there, unread.Desmond’s name on my screen felt heavier than it should have, like it carried more weight than a simple text ever could. I stopped walking, the noise of the city fading into a dull hum as my thumb hovered over the notification.Behind me, I could still feel Gabriel’s presence, even though I hadn’t looked back. He hadn’t followed—at least, I didn’t think he had—but he’d left something behind. A disturbance. A crack in the carefully balanced version of my life.I opened the message.I landed safely. I’ll explain everything soon.That was it.No apology. No details. No reassurance. Just a neat little sentence meant to pacify me, to buy time.My chest tightened.Explain everything soon.Soon was a word Desmond used when he didn’t want questions. When he needed control over the narrative. When he wasn’t ready to tell the truth.I typed back.You told me you were in London.The reply didn’t come immediately.I started walking again, forcing my le

Mommy where is daddy

Sienna’s POVThe next morning, the sunlight spilled through the blinds, cutting across the kitchen floor in sharp stripes. I forced myself out of bed, even though the night had left my mind tangled and heavy. My phone sat on the counter, screen dark, but the weight of Desmond’s messages from last night lingered in my chest. Trust me. The words mocked me silently, twisting my stomach. Trust. That had once been easy, natural, unquestioned. Now it felt like a puzzle I couldn’t solve, like a rope I couldn’t hold onto.I shook my head, trying to clear it. I had to focus on something else. My triplets. That was something I could handle, something I could control, at least in part.After a quick shower and a hurried breakfast—toast for me, cereal and milk for the kids—I grabbed my bag and headed out. The school run was always hectic, but somehow, it grounded me.The car ride was quiet at first. Milo tapped his fingers on the dashboard, humming a little tune. Max was staring out the window, h

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