Never Forgive Never Forget (Celeste and Philip) novel Chapter 84

Abelard scowled, deep lines furrowing his brow as he sent someone to investigate.

His assistant came running back, breathless and flustered.

"Apparently, Asterwynn's apartment is being shared by Mr. Philip and Miss Viola."

"He bought property for Viola?"

In that instant, rage flooded Abelard's face. Just the thought of Viola, always scheming her way in, made his voice rise several pitches. "Viola's not even his wife, so what gives Philip the nerve to use work as an excuse to set her up in Asterwynn?"

"It's bad enough he's running personal errands for some woman! But now he's gotten the Hopkins family involved. Tell him to get over there and smooth things over with the Hopkins family. Right now!"

Abelard's anger left him coughing uncontrollably, nearly enough to send him to the hospital. For the moment, he didn't care who had tipped him off.

Word spread quickly throughout the Robertson family—everyone knew Philip was at the center of this mess. One after another, their phones lit up with messages condemning him from all directions.

...

Meanwhile, at the top floor of Moonwater Grove—

Mack had organized a small team, calmly and efficiently cutting off every one of the Robertson Group's business projects.

Alfred stood by the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows, unmoving, until the clicking of keys behind him abruptly stopped. Only then did he glance at his watch.

"Is it done?"

"Yes, sir."

Mack closed his laptop. "The Robertson Group's already sniffed out the Hopkins family. They're probably putting the squeeze on Philip right now. Should we do anything else?"

"Pick out a tailored evening dress and a styling team for my wife."

It would be her first time appearing as Mrs. Hopkins at such an event—there could be no room for error.

Mack understood immediately and set about the new task with laser focus.

After all, compared to bringing down the Robertson Group, making sure the boss's wife looked flawless clearly took priority.

Downstairs, in one of the guest rooms, Philip had just received a message from the Robertson Group—and he was beside himself with anxiety.

Viola, eyes shining with unshed tears, drew closer to him, looking heartbreakingly fragile.

"Philip, can you take me with you?"

"You just had a fight with Celeste—there was blood. If Alfred shows up and sees you..."

"Celeste is just Alfred's secret lover. He doesn't even have the nerve to acknowledge her in public. There's no way he'd pick a fight with me over some mistress at an event like this."

Viola sounded so sure of herself that Philip began to waver. She pressed herself against him, her soft lips nearly brushing his chest, her arms slipping around his neck. "If Alfred doesn't like me, I'll apologize. Philip, please—take me with you."

Philip instinctively turned away, gently pushing her back a little.

He thought about it—showing up without a date would only raise more eyebrows.

After a long hesitation, he finally nodded.

"Promise me you'll watch what you say. Especially—don't provoke Celeste. Can you do that?"