All Chapters of No Way to Win Me Back: Chapter 381 - Chapter 390

595 Chapters

Chapter Three Hundred and Eighty-One

Celeste’s POVThe news broke before sunrise.Rachel texted first, just three clipped words: It’s out, Cel. And then the link followed a local business bulletin reporting Gideon’s arrest, his real name, the forged credentials, and the planted evidence.Vanessa’s supposed involvement was mentioned only once, in a single speculative line, but it was enough to make my stomach lurch.By the time I reached Rosemary, the link was already dead.Every article was gone. Every gossip page that had screamed betrayal an hour ago now seemed scrubbed clean. It was like watching a fire blink out mid-flame.I found Jenny in the marketing office, half-hidden behind a stack of folders she was reorganizing like someone trying to rebuild a life out of paper. Her shoulders stiffened when she heard me approaching.“Jen,” I said softly.She turned, and the tiny smile she offered made something twist in my chest. She looked better, more herself, but still a little hollow around the eyes, like the humiliation h

Chapter Three Hundred and Eighty-Two

Celeste’s POVI wasn’t expecting to see Grace walk into Rosemary so soon.Not after everything. Not after the way her world had collapsed overnight.But there she was, standing in the doorway of my office, bundled in an oversized cardigan, her hair pulled into a messy knot, eyes still swollen but somehow… steadier. Different. As if the worst had already burned through her and left behind something quieter, stripped down to its core.“Grace,” I breathed, rising from my chair before I even realized it. “You should be resting.”She gave a tired smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I know. But resting at home was making me feel like I was drowning.” She rubbed her arm, exhaling shakily. “I needed to be here. With you. With everyone.”I crossed to her and wrapped my arms around her, feeling her tremble just a little before she steadied herself. “You don’t owe Rosemary anything right now,” I murmured into her shoulder. “You’ve been through enough.”“I know.” She pulled back, bl

Chapter Three Hundred and Eighty-Three

Celeste’s POVNight at home always feels different after days like these.Quieter. As if the walls themselves are holding their breath, afraid to disturb what little peace we manage to steal for ourselves.Molly had fallen asleep almost instantly, curled against me with her small hand still gripping my shirt, as if worried I might disappear if she let go.She’d been so gentle with Bonnie these past few days, far more gentle than any child should have to be.And it made the guilt wrap tight around my chest like a belt pulled too hard.When I finally slipped out of Molly’s room, closing the door with the softest click, I found Ryan sitting on the living-room couch, the soft lamplight catching the tired angles of his face.His jacket hung over the armrest. His sleeves were rolled up. He looked like he’d been waiting for me.He always does.He patted the space beside him, wordless.I sank down next to him, leaning sideways until my head rested on his shoulder. It felt natural. Like the kin

Chapter Three Hundred and Eighty-Four

Celeste’s POVThe morning should have been ordinary.A quiet walk into Rosemary, a coffee in hand, a moment of calm before facing the hundred fires still burning in the aftermath of Gideon’s arrest.I even told myself, naively, that the worst of the media frenzy had passed.Reporters would move on. Stories fade. People forget.But the moment I turned the corner onto the street, I knew I’d been foolish.They were waiting for me.A wall of cameras, microphones, and bodies surged forward as soon as I appeared, so sudden and coordinated it felt like a trap snapping shut around me.Flash after flash exploded in my eyes, blinding white spots dancing across my vision.I froze for half a second, my breath catching painfully in my chest.“Ms. Sinclair!”“Celeste, is it true you abandoned Bonnie Kent?”“Why did you give up custody? Did you think she was too difficult to handle?”“Are the rumors true that you resent her for her behavior toward Molly?”The questions slammed into me like thrown sto

Chapter Three Hundred and Eighty-Five

Ryan’s POVI didn’t even make it through the lobby doors of Crown Luxe before security stiffened.They recognized me as the son who kept pretending he wasn’t one.I didn’t bother acknowledging any of them. Rage makes a clean, cold tunnel through your body when you’ve held it in too long, and mine had been simmering since the moment Celeste’s voice cracked on the phone.“They ambushed me, Ryan… there were so many cameras and reporters.”I had felt the urge to break something then. Now, walking through Crown Luxe’s marbled foyer, that urge had sharpened into purpose.The elevator ride to the executive floor was agonizingly slow.Mr. Davis shot up from his chair the second I approached.“Mr. Ryan, your father—”“He’ll see me.” I didn’t give him a chance to refuse. I pushed his office doors open without knocking.Maximilian looked up from his desk, irritation flickering before he smoothed it away.“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked coolly, leaning back in his leather chair as if I w

Chapter Three Hundred and Eighty-Six

Vanessa’s POVI wasn’t supposed to be outside Maximilian’s office. I wasn’t supposed to hear anything. But the door wasn’t fully shut, and I was walking past at the exact wrong, or right, moment.Ryan’s voice cut through the hallway like a blade.“Rein her in. I’m done playing games. If Vanessa comes after Celeste again, I’ll make sure she never touches anything under Crown Luxe again.”My heart froze. My mouth went dry. My spine felt like someone had poured ice water straight through it.He said my name with a venom I’d never heard from him before.He didn’t sound like the Ryan who used to linger by my desk pretending to need samples. He sounded… dangerous.Like every word was a match he was ready to strike.And Maximilian didn’t defend me. He just listened. He let Ryan spit accusation after accusation without objecting.Like I was disposable.I stepped back from the door before either of them could see me, but for a moment I couldn’t breathe. The hallway felt too narrow, the air too

Chapter Three Hundred and Eighty-Seven

Celeste’s POVI’ve heard the words repeated so many times now, emails, phone calls, the frantic whispers at the office, that they’ve lost shape, meaning. They echo in my skull like a dull, merciless drumbeat:“Trade agreement violation.”“Supply suspension.”“Noncompliance review.”Every production line. Every supplier. Every partner.By the time Grace bursts into my office with a stack of printed emails, we already know. Rosemary isn’t just struggling.We’re being strangled.“This doesn’t make sense,” she keeps saying, flipping through the papers like she’ll find a loophole if she stares hard enough. “We didn’t violate anything. There’s no reason for all our supply chains to freeze at once, unless someone orchestrated it.”I know who orchestrated it. But knowing doesn’t save us.I sit behind my desk, hands shaking, chest tight. My lungs feel too small. My throat is too narrow. The walls are closing in around me.Jenny runs past my office door, shouting something about a journalist ref

Chapter Three Hundred and Eighty-Eight

Celeste’s POVI don’t even remember the last moment of silence in this building.Phones are ringing nonstop. Every department looks like a battlefield.Grace is in the hallway arguing with someone from logistics, and Jenny is pacing in front of the windows with her headset on, repeatedly saying, “No comment, no comment, no comment,” like she’s trying to cast a spell to keep journalists away.I’m in my office trying to answer a supplier’s email, my fourth attempt, when a knock sounds at the door.“Ms. Sinclair?”I look up.Officer Raymond stands in the doorway.I’ve been waiting for this visit. Dreading it. Hoping for it. I don’t know anymore.“Come in,” I say, though my voice comes out thinner than I want it to.He closes the door behind him and stops in front of my desk.There’s something heavy in his eyes, something grim, like he’s carrying bad news and a warning at the same time.“Sorry to come without notice,” he says. “But the situation with Andre Cox, that is, Gideon, has develop

Chapter Three Hundred and Eighty-Nine

Celeste’s POVThe apartment was unusually quiet.The chaos of Rosemary, the relentless phone calls, the media storm, they all seemed to follow me home like a shadow, and yet, here, the silence was oppressive.Molly looked up from the couch, her small fingers fiddling with the strap of her watch. She had noticed me before I even saw her, seen the tension in my shoulders, the way I tried to mask the exhaustion in my eyes, the tight line of my jaw.She didn’t say anything. She just watched me. That’s when I realized that the little body who had been through so much herself could sense my suffering.I sank into the couch across from her, running a hand through my hair, and tried to breathe.My mind refused to stop replaying the headlines: “Mother Abandons Child” … “Rosemary Atelier on the Brink” … “Celeste Sinclair’s Reputation in Ruins.” I’d read them again and again, trying to harden myself, but the sting hadn’t dulled.“Aunt Celeste…” Molly’s voice was tentative.I looked up. Her small

Chapter Three Hundred and Ninety

Celeste’s POVI sat at my desk, staring at the glowing screen, and yet I wasn’t really seeing it.The emails, the notices, the latest correspondence from suppliers, all the blocks, all the legal notices, the veiled threats, blurred together into one relentless, suffocating roar.My chest felt heavy, as if every ounce of air had been replaced with lead.We were cornered. Financially, professionally, emotionally, everywhere I looked, there was a wall. Orders were frozen, production halted. The supply chain we had painstakingly built over years was disintegrating in front of my eyes.I rubbed my temples, trying to stave off the headache that had been growing since sunrise. Jenny had been doing her best with media management, but even she looked defeated.The press wasn’t kind, and the whispers on social media had begun to seep into everyday conversations, like a cold fog I couldn’t escape.I had spent hours drafting emails, sending pleas, negotiating, begging, anyone, anywhere, for help.

...

37 38 39 40 41

...

SCAN CODE TO READ ON APP