Semua Bab Billionaire's Regrets:He Hurt Me But Wants Me Back: Bab 61 - Bab 70

Dwight’s POV"You want the truth, huh? How about you start by giving me that?"I frown. "What do you mean?"Leah exhales sharply, arms crossing tightly over her chest. "You left. Days before our wedding, Dwight. No calls, no messages. Nothing." Her voice shakes, but she doesn’t back down. "Do you think that deserves zero explanation?"Her words hit me like a freight train.I left? Days before our wedding?No. That’s not— that’s not possible.A cold wave crashes over me, sinking deep into my bones, sending an unsettling chill through my entire body.I shake my head, my pulse hammering. "Leah… what are you talking about?"She laughs, sharp and humorless. "Oh, don’t do that. Don’t stand there and pretend you don’t know exactly what I mean."But I don’t.I don’t.A strange, hollow feeling spreads through my chest, like a chasm opening beneath my feet. "I left?" The words feel foreign, wrong.She lifts her chin, eyes flashing with anger and something else—pain. "You disappeared, Dwight. No

Leah’s POVThe silence is unbearable.It stretches between us, thick, suffocating, pressing in on my chest like an unseen force. It’s the kind of silence that drowns out even the loudest thoughts, leaving behind only the weight of what has been said—and what hasn’t.Dwight hasn’t moved.He stands near the window, his posture tense, his hands curled into fists. His eyes are distant, unreadable, locked somewhere beyond the present moment. But I know what he’s thinking. I can feel it in the air between us.He’s regretting this.Not the truth. Not telling me. But being here. Standing in front of me. Giving me a piece of himself that he had sworn to keep buried.And I… I don’t know what to do with it.The truth has changed everything. And yet, it has changed nothing at all.Then, a sharp, jarring sound shatters the silence.My phone.The sudden vibration against the glass coffee table sends a ripple through the stillness, a stark contrast to the heaviness in the room.I flinch.My eyes dro

Leah’s POVThe night drags on, stretching endlessly as I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. Sleep remains elusive, chased away by the endless cycle of thoughts circling in my head. No matter how much I try to push them away, they keep coming back—Dwight’s words, Cece’s questions, the gnawing uncertainty that refuses to let me rest.I turn onto my side, gripping the sheets. The weight of everything presses down on me. I had spent years believing Dwight had chosen to leave. Years convincing myself that, for some reason, I wasn’t enough to make him stay. And now, with one revelation, the past has been rewritten.I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to slow my racing heart.I had searched for him. After he disappeared, I had called, emailed, even gone to his office. But I had always been met with silence, with a void where he should have been. Eventually, I had stopped searching. I had forced myself to move on.But had I really?If I had, why does it still hurt this much?I exhale sharply and

Ethan’s POV“Is it done?”“Yes, sir.”“Good,” I mutter.The world sees chaos as an accident. A tragic, unfortunate event.I see it as strategy.My glass rests against my lips, the whiskey burning down my throat as I watch the city below. A storm of lights flickers through the skyline, but my mind is elsewhere—on a different kind of fire. One that has already turned a part of Dwight’s empire to ash.I set the glass down with a quiet clink, my pulse steady, my satisfaction quiet but absolute.This moment should feel like victory. And in many ways, it is. The first strike has been made. A calculated, well-executed move that no one will suspect. By morning, the news will break—one of Glimmr’s major workshops, up in flames, reduced to nothing but ash and twisted metal.A tragic accident, they’ll call it.An unfortunate loss.And Dwight?He’ll know better.That’s the beauty of it. No one will point fingers. There will be no investigations, no trails leading back to me. Just whispers. Just u

Felix’s POVThe house is silent. Too silent.I sit in the dimly lit study, a half-empty glass of whiskey resting on the desk beside me. The amber liquid catches the glow of the desk lamp, flickering like dying embers, but it does nothing to warm me. Nothing does. Not anymore.The air in here feels stale, the kind of stillness that settles when a place has been left untouched for too long. I don’t remember the last time I had company in this house. Not real company. Not the kind that fills a place with laughter, movement, life.My fingers tighten around the glass. I take a slow sip, the burn of the alcohol cutting through the numbness creeping into my bones. I used to hate whiskey. Now, it keeps me company more than anyone else.I exhale, rubbing a hand over my face, my mind spiraling in one direction, over and over again.Leah.Where is she? Is she safe? Is she thinking about me the way I’m thinking about her?The thought of anything happening to her sends ice through my veins. The ki