Semua Bab No Way to Win Me Back: Bab 461 - Bab 470

Ryan’s POVI stared at my phone longer than necessary before I dialed.Mr. Davis picked up on the second ring, like he always did. The kind of man who never let a call go unanswered if it might matter.“Ryan,” he said, voice low. “I was wondering when you’d reach out.”That alone tightened something in my chest.“I need to know what he’s thinking,” I said without preamble. “Not what he’s saying. Not what he’s posturing. What he’s actually thinking.”There was a pause. Papers shifting. The faint hum of an office that never truly slept.“You’re asking me whether this is another attempt to put a leash on you,” Mr. Davis said carefully, “or whether your father is finally ready to hand you the reins.”“Yes.”He exhaled slowly. “If I’m being honest, Ryan? I don’t think even Maximilian fully knows yet.”I leaned back in my chair, staring at the glass wall of my office, the city beyond it blurred and distant. “That’s not reassuring.”“No,” he agreed. “It isn’t.”Silence stretched between us. I

Damien’s POVI thought returning to work would steady me.That if I buried myself in meetings, spreadsheets, projections, and forecasts, the noise in my head would quiet. Vanessa was gone. The house was quieter. Bonnie was sleeping better. Atlas cried at predictable intervals. Order, finally. Or something close to it.Imperial Aurium Group smelled the same as it always had, polished stone, expensive cologne, the faint metallic tang of raw gold hidden somewhere behind glass walls. Familiar. Comforting.I hadn’t realized how much I missed it until I was back in the chair that had once been ripped out from under me.Henry Brown ran the meeting like a man who’d learned to trust me again but hadn’t quite forgiven me. Fair enough.We were discussing competitors. New players. Emerging threats. The board wanted names, not theories.“Aurora,” one of the analysts said, clicking to the next slide.The name snagged my attention instantly.“Who?” I asked.“Aurora,” she repeated. “New luxury-adjacen

Ryan’s POVI didn’t go to the event with Celeste. That decision alone felt like a fracture.I told her something important had come up, and that wasn’t a lie. It was just not the truth in the way she deserved it. The truth was heavier. The truth had teeth. The truth had my father’s voice wrapped around it, patient and relentless, waiting for me to stop pretending I could outrun it.The Edwards’ estate looked exactly the way it always had, immaculate, controlled, designed to make you feel small before you ever stepped inside. Gravel crunched beneath my tires as I pulled up, the sound too loud in the quiet. I sat there for a moment longer than necessary, my hands on the steering wheel, breathing through the pressure in my chest.This was where decisions got made. Not announced. Not celebrated. Decided.Maximilian was in his study when I was shown in. Of course he was. He always chose rooms that felt like chessboards: dark wood, sharp angles, walls lined with trophies disguised as legacy.

Ryan’s POVI should have known something was wrong the second I opened the door.Celeste wasn’t pacing the way she did when she was anxious. She wasn’t quiet either. She was still, too still, standing in the middle of the living room like she’d braced herself for impact long before I arrived.Her eyes flicked to me, sharp and unreadable.“Hey,” I said carefully. “I—”“Don’t,” she cut in. One word. Flat. Dangerous.My stomach dropped.I closed the door behind me anyway, slower than usual. The apartment felt smaller than it ever had, the air thick with unsaid things. Grace’s bedroom door was shut down the hall. Molly’s nightlight cast a soft glow beneath her door. Domestic peace I was about to shatter.I stepped closer. “Celeste, what’s going on?”She laughed. Not amused. Not light. It sounded brittle, like glass snapping under pressure.“You tell me,” she said. “Aurora.”The word landed like a gunshot.My chest tightened instantly. “Who told you?”She stared at me as if I’d just confirm

Celeste’s POVI thought finding out about Ryan’s connection to Aurora would be the worst of it.But when I woke up the next morning, there was another news waiting for me.The television was muted, a ribbon of images scrolling beneath a panel of overpaid commentators, but the words were enough. They burned through the quiet of my living room like a flare.RYAN EDWARDS NAMED OFFICIAL HEIR OF CROWN LUXE.I didn’t move. I didn’t reach for the remote. I didn’t even blink at first. My body reacted before my mind could catch up, my shoulders locked, my spine went rigid, my hands curled into fists in my lap like they were bracing for impact.Grace was in the kitchen. Molly was getting ready for school. The apartment was still, painfully so, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath.So this was it.This was the thing he hadn’t told me.The anchor’s mouth kept moving, explaining context I already knew too well. Crown Luxe. Legacy. Succession. International Jewelry Association ties.