Undressed By His Arrogance-Chapter 275: You Never Know

Winn huffed a breath of a laugh. "You never know. You could use the information to sharpen your own dating skills." He shrugged.

Sam’s response was immediate. Smack. A sharp slap landed on the back of Winn’s head—not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to make a point.

"Don’t get smart with me," Sam said dryly.

Winn rubbed the back of his head, chuckling under his breath.

Sam turned then, his eyes drifted back to Elizabeth. She was nestled against Ivy’s shoulder, blissfully unaware that she had just rearranged the priorities of every adult in the room.

"She’s beautiful," Sam said quietly.

"Yeah, she is," Winn agreed. "Now let’s keep keeping her safe. Sharona is in the wind."

"No," Sam said calmly. "No she is not."

Winn’s head snapped toward him. He studied Sam’s face, the slight lift of his chin, the certainty in his eyes. Admiration clouded Winn’s gaze.

"You have her, don’t you?" he asked quietly.

Sam simply smiled. "I told you if you ever needed help, I can help." He clapped Winn on the shoulder, then stepped forward to gently lift Elizabeth from Ivy’s arms.

Winn shook his head slowly. Sam was well into his seventies, his body slower, his steps measured—but his mind? Still sharp as a blade. Still dangerous in the way only experience could make a man. It was impressive. Comforting. Terrifying.

Now came the harder part.

Now he had to make sure the Everests agreed—to the plan, to the silence, to keeping Elizabeth hidden with Mary in Canada. It meant distance. It meant restraint. It meant trusting that love could survive separation.

Winn exhaled in defeat, watching Sam murmur nonsense to Elizabeth.

*****

When the house was finally quiet, Winn found himself alone in the nursery. He had been offered a room of his own, Sam had claimed one down the hall, Irene and Evans were meant to be sharing one though their muffled argument had drifted through, and Ivy had agreed to share a room with Mary for the night.

Fresh from the shower, his hair still damp, Winn wore nothing but a pair of boxers he’d picked up from a bodega near the house. They were soft, slightly too loose at the waist. He hadn’t bothered with a shirt. The house was well heated.

Elizabeth was already asleep. Winn lowered himself into the chair beside the crib with care, his movements instinctively quiet. He sat there, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped loosely, staring at the crib as if it contained both his greatest fear and his greatest hope.

His mind refused to rest.

He thought about time: how long Elizabeth would stay here. He imagined her older, walking, talking. He imagined bringing her home proudly. And then his jaw tightened because imagination was easy—reality was not.

Sharona was out of the picture. Sam had made sure of that. Winn didn’t ask questions. He trusted Sam implicitly. That Chapter, bloody and ugly as it was, had been closed. But Tom? Tom was still breathing, still maneuvering, still dangerous.

Winn leaned back slightly, rolling his shoulders. He needed to dismantle Tom completely. He needed to end him—influence-wise, financially, socially. No wings meant no flight. No resources meant no reach. Tom needed to be reduced to noise, to irrelevance, to a man shouting into a void no one cared to listen to. 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

Reputation would be first. Then money. Then allies.

He forced himself to pause.

Why had Tom gone this far?

The answer rose immediately, bitter and obvious. Inheritance.

Winn closed his eyes and replayed his grandfather’s will from memory, every clause etched into his brain. It was airtight. Ruthless in its clarity. Tom would get nothing. And if something happened to Winn? Everything transferred to Elizabeth. The empire would belong to a child.

But he didn’t want to risk that Tom would go quietly. That was the lie people told themselves before things went wrong—that villains eventually tired, that time dulled malice. Winn had thought the same of Sharona. And he was right. Sharona hadn’t gone quietly; she had gone kicking, clawing, leaving blood and chaos in her wake. Tom was cut from the same cloth—prideful, entitled, dangerous when desperate.

And that was the problem.

He didn’t have any ideas. None whatsoever. Winn leaned forward and buried his face in his palms, fingers digging into his scalp as he exhaled slowly. He wanted to punch something. Break something. Release the coiled fury sitting just under his skin. His knuckles twitched as if already imagining the impact.

"Winn?" Ivy whispered from the doorway.

He lifted his head, eyes snapping to the door. Ivy stood there barefoot, wearing one of Mary’s night dresses—too long on her, sleeves slipping off one shoulder. Her hair was loose, falling around her face in waves.

"Hey," he said.

"You should get some sleep. We have to leave tomorrow." She stepped further into the room. "You haven’t had any sleep in days."

She was right. Sleep hadn’t just escaped him—it had abandoned him entirely.

Ivy moved toward him. She reached out, her fingers brushing his forearm. "Come on," she urged softly.

Winn pushed himself to his feet, muscles protesting as if reminding him how long it had been since he’d rested. He rolled his shoulders once, then turned back to the crib. He stood there for a moment longer than necessary, his gaze fixed on Elizabeth’s sleeping form, memorizing the curve of her cheek, the tiny rise and fall of her chest.

"I wish we didn’t have to go back," he said quietly.

Ivy followed his gaze. "I know," she replied. "But we will. And she’ll still be here. Safe."

"For now," he said under his breath.

She slipped her hand into his, lacing their fingers together. "You don’t have to carry everything tonight," she said gently. "Just... come to bed."

"Can we just run away? Move to another continent? Live simply?" Winn added.

"We have too much to leave behind right now, Winn. We have to finish this fight. You promised me you would bring her home. Home, Winn." Ivy said, turning fully to face him.