All Chapters of No Way to Win Me Back: Chapter 441 - Chapter 450

Celeste’s POVThe plan looked flawless on paper.That was the first mistake, believing paper had ever protected anyone from people who wanted blood.By the time I stepped out of the car in front of Rosemary Atelier, the street was already barricaded. Cameras clustered like vultures. Microphones bobbed above heads. Someone shouted my name before my heels even touched the pavement.“Celeste Sinclair!”“Is it true your father bought your career?”“Did Nicholas Grant rig the competition for you?”Ryan’s hand brushed my elbow, subtle but steady. Jenny was already ahead of us, arguing with security, her voice sharp and uncharacteristically cold.“She’ll make a statement and that’s it,” Jenny snapped. “No questions beyond what’s approved.”They didn’t listen.They never do.Inside the lobby, the air buzzed with tension. Employees lined the upper floors, faces pressed to glass, looking at the mess outside.I adjusted my blazer, lifted my chin, and stepped toward the podium.Ryan leaned in, his

Celeste’s POVDinner felt quieter than it should have.Not awkward, just careful. Like we were both navigating a room full of fragile things, afraid that one wrong movement would shatter something we couldn’t put back together.My mother set the table with the same precision she always had. Plates warmed. Cutlery aligned. A simple meal of roasted vegetables, rice, the lentils she’d perfected over decades of cooking for one. It smelled like childhood and restraint and the kind of love that never demanded applause.We sat across from each other, the space between us filled with things we hadn’t finished saying.For a few minutes, we talked about nothing. The weather. Molly. The roses in the garden that had finally bloomed the way my mother wanted them to. I let her do it, let her ease into the evening the way she always had when conversations were about to turn difficult.Eventually, she was the one who broke.“He didn’t stay long,” she said softly, eyes fixed on her plate.I didn’t pret

Celeste’s POVBy the time I reached Ryan’s penthouse, my body felt like it was moving on muscle memory alone.Dinner with my mother had taken more out of me than I’d expected. Not because we argued, because we didn’t, but because understanding someone’s pain without sharing their choices is its own kind of exhaustion. I was still replaying her words in my head when the elevator doors slid open.And I walked straight into him.Maximilian Edwards stood near the door, coat already on, his posture immaculate as always, like a man who believed gravity itself bent slightly in his favor. For half a second, none of us moved.My spine stiffened instantly.I hadn’t seen him since the day he’d looked me in the eye and threatened to destroy me with something I had only known for a little while. Since he’d implied that my relationship with his son was a liability, not a choice.He glanced at me, something unreadable flickering across his face. Not surprise. Calculation.“Celeste,” he said politely,

Celeste’s POVI woke to cold sheets and the unmistakable absence of Ryan.For one panicked second, my chest tightened, but then I heard the faint hum of voices from down the hall. His home office. I sat up, rubbing my eyes, the events of the past few days crashing back into me like a wave that never receded.I got up and followed the sound.Ryan was standing by his desk, jacket already on, phone in his hand. He turned the moment he saw me, his expression smoothing into something calm and familiar, but I knew him too well now.There was tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there last night. Something unresolved, sitting heavy.“Hey,” I said softly.“Morning,” he replied, smiling easily. Too easy.“Are you okay?”“Yes.”The answer came too fast.I studied him for a second longer than necessary. His jaw was tight, eyes alert in that way they only got when he was thinking five moves ahead and none of them were good. Whatever was going on, he wasn’t ready to share it.And I didn’t push

Celeste’s POVI buried myself in work to make sure I remained distracted from everything else.I was letting Jenny handle the media online for now. The new strategy was to let the hype die down before addressing the situation calmly and in front of only select media representatives that wouldn’t be unprofessional.If I kept my mind occupied with emails, sketches, production timelines.The headlines blurred into background static. The whispers in the hallways of Rosemary Atelier dulled into something manageable. I had already survived worse than public opinion. I told myself that over and over like a mantra.Still, the day had a way of refusing to let me hide.Grace knocked lightly on my office door just after noon, her expression hesitant. “You have a visitor.”I didn’t look up. “If it’s press, tell them—”“It’s not,” she said. “He says you’ve met once.”That made me pause.“Who?”She stepped aside.Leander Voss walked in like he owned the space.Tall. Immaculate. Dark suit cut to perf