Todos los capítulos de You Lost Me, Desmond Vaughn : Capítulo 1 - Capítulo 8

The kitchen smelled of rosemary and regret. Genevieve Vaughn stood at the marble island, her hands dusted with flour, her eyes fixed on the lamb roasting in the oven. The clock read 6:47 PM. Forty-three minutes until her husband was due home, forty-three minutes until she would sit across from him and pretend their marriage wasn't suffocating her. She had dismissed the nanny an hour ago and the housekeeper too. For once, she wanted to do this herself because tomorrow was their fifth anniversary, and somewhere beneath the layers of ice that had formed between them, she still believed there was warmth buried deep enough to uncover. Five years. The rumors had started two years ago, whispers at galas, sympathetic glances at charity events. Poor Genevieve can't give him an heir. What use is a wife who can't do the one thing she's meant to do? She had smiled through all of it, held her head high, returned home to an empty bed and a husband who had stopped looking at her the way he used

The silence in Alain Sterling's mansion was a luxury Genevieve hadn't known she needed. She sat in the guest room—the same room she had stayed in countless times before, during the early years of her marriage when she and Desmond had fought, when she needed space, when she needed to breathe. It felt like coming home to a place that had always been waiting for her. But this time was different. This time, she wasn't going back. She stared at her phone, which buzzed incessantly with notifications. Her post had exploded across every platform. News outlets were running headlines, social media was ablaze with speculation, judgment, and sympathy. "Genevieve Vaughn Announces Divorce on Anniversary Night." "Desmond Vaughn Introduces Pregnant Mistress as Party Crumbles." "The Fall of the Vaughn Empire: Scandal Rocks Elite Family." She scrolled through the comments, her expression unreadable. Some praised her courage, others called her dramatic. A few accused her of seeking attention. She

The executive offices of Vaughn Holdings occupied the entire top floor of a gleaming glass tower that overlooked the city like a watchful sentinel. Ordinarily, the atmosphere hummed with effortless precision, every employee moved with quiet efficiency, every meeting began exactly on schedule, and every decision flowed from one office: the expansive corner suite belonging to Isabella Vaughn. This morning, however, something was wrong. The silence felt strained, brittle, as though the entire floor were holding its breath. Even the reception staff spoke in hushed voices, careful not to disturb the woman whose temper had grown increasingly unpredictable since the disaster at the anniversary gala. Isabella stood alone in her office, one hand resting lightly against the polished mahogany desk while the other slowly stirred a cup of untouched coffee. Her posture was rigid, her gaze locked on the security monitor mounted on the wall like a predator studying prey. "Play it again." The s

Desmond barely noticed the sterile white walls blurring by as he hurried down the corridor. He was moving so fast he almost collided with a doctor stepping out of a nearby room.“Mr. Vaughn,” the doctor said with a polite nod. The Vaughn family was well known here—major investors and longtime supporters of the hospital. But Desmond didn’t even hear him. He kept walking, his mind fixed on one thing.Room 517.His heart pounded hard against his ribs as he rounded the final corner and stopped short.There it was.He stood outside the door, breathing uneven, staring at the simple number on the wall. For the first time since Genevieve had left, the tight knot of uncertainty in his chest started to loosen. She was here. Close enough that he could finally see her. Whatever pain she’d been through, he needed to lay eyes on her himself.He reached for the door handle.Before he could grab it, the door swung open.Alain stepped out and nearly walked right into him.Both men froze.The silence b