Never Forgive Never Forget (Celeste and Philip) novel Chapter 93

"Philip, let me explain!"

Viola's panic was written all over her face as she rushed in front of Philip, clutching his arm with both hands, her eyes pleading desperately.

Philip looked down at her, disappointment etched deep in his gaze.

"Explain what, exactly? You've wanted me to go back to Silvercrest from the start, haven't you?"

"I—I did want to go back, but only because I was afraid my illness would hold you back…"

Viola's voice trembled as she tried to defend herself.

The two of them stood arguing under the glow of the streetlamp, their silhouettes tangled and indistinct.

Celeste lingered in the shadows nearby, wholly uninterested in watching the drama unfold.

Mack arrived just in time, slipping out of the car to quietly usher her away from the chaos and back upstairs to the peace of the penthouse.

When Celeste finally got home, she hadn't even had time to shrug off her chestnut wool coat when her phone buzzed—a string of messages from an anonymous account.

Attached were several photos.

In the images, she and Alfred could be seen from behind, standing side by side at the gala just moments ago.

Beneath the photos was a single line:

"Bow out while you still can."

Celeste's lips curled in a cold smile. She recognized the familiar phrasing, the signature filter, the angle of the shots…

Without hesitation, she deleted the messages and blocked the sender.

"Philip, you really are relentless," she muttered.

He was still obsessed with "proving" that Celeste was a homewrecker.

Meanwhile, on the other end of the line, Philip stared at his phone in frustration—no reply, and now he'd been blocked, cut off from contacting Celeste in any way. His eyes dimmed with disappointment.

Outside, Viola was still rambling on, trying to justify herself.

Philip pressed his hands to his ears, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Celly… Why can't you see how much I love you?"

Celeste wasn't having it. "Because even if you're the company's heir, stealing confidential files is still a crime."

She slapped a thick folder onto the table, the red confidential stamp glaringly obvious. "These are protected under a non-disclosure agreement. Only authorized personnel can access them. Even if you're a direct relative of a board member, the police won't hesitate to arrest you."

Beverly's face went ashen.

The files on the desk were piled high—who could've guessed something so sensitive was buried in that stack?

She opened her mouth to argue, but Celeste cut her off with finality.

"I'll count to three. If you don't want me to call the police, you'd better stay out of my office from now on… Three."

"I don't believe you. If you dare call the police, my father will never let you get away with it," Beverly shot back, her jaw set, refusing to back down.

Celeste didn't flinch.

"Two… One."

She picked up her phone and dialed, the line connecting as a voice answered on the other end.