Undressed By His Arrogance-Chapter 282: I’m Not Asking For Permission

"You are breaking up with me?" Eugene asked. He hadn’t moved from where he stood near the armchair, one hand braced on the back of it.

"Eugene..." Ivy started.

"Are you?" he pressed, lifting his head to look at her fully now.

"Yes."

"You can’t." He shook his head once. "You cannot, Ivy."

"Excuse me?" Ivy raised a brow, more surprised than offended. "I’m not asking for permission. I understand that this is hard—"

"Listen, that’s not it. Shit!" Eugene dragged a hand through his hair and paced once, frustration radiating off him. He stopped abruptly and turned back to her. "You need to talk to Winn before you make this decision."

"What the hell does Winn have to do with this?" she asked sharply.

"Everything."

"What the hell are you saying?" Ivy’s confusion deepened, her thoughts scrambling to catch up.

Eugene exhaled slowly. "Ivy... I’m gay."

The room went silent.

"What?" She blinked, certain she’d misheard him.

"Didn’t you ever ask yourself why I never went beyond kissing you?" he asked gently.

"I..." Ivy faltered, heat creeping up her neck. "I thought... you know... I assumed you were being old-fashioned."

Eugene smiled then, genuine and a little sad. "You are a beautiful, gorgeous woman. No one can be old-fashioned around you unless they are on the wrong team."

She sat down slowly. "So why..." she asked finally. "You said you love me. Why would you then want to marry me?"

"I thought you were perfect," he said honestly. "You’re in love with another man. I’m in love with another man. I saw it as the perfect arrangement." He shrugged. "I would have told you eventually. I was thinking along the lines of an open marriage or something."

"Oh my God..." Ivy gasped. She pressed her palms to her temples, staring at the opposite wall without really seeing it. "What does Winn have to do with this?"

Eugene hesitated, pacing once before stopping in front of her. "He found out," he said quietly. "And for some reason—he wants me to keep up the engagement. At least for now. He said he needs to sort some things out and keep you out of danger while doing so. To take attention off you, I think."

"Holy Mary, Mother of God," she muttered, staring at the ceiling.

"Look," Eugene said, crouching in front of her so she had no choice but to look at him, "if we don’t keep this up—if the engagement suddenly ends—Winn is going to tell my parents. And I cannot...I’m not ready to tell them. Hell, I don’t think I will ever be ready."

Ivy shot back to her feet, agitation replacing shock. "I don’t believe this," she said. She stopped abruptly and turned toward the door. "I—I have to go."

"Ivy," Eugene called after her, urgency flooding his tone. "For what it’s worth, I’m sorry."

She paused, one hand on the doorframe, her shoulders sagging just a little. "Yeah," she said quietly. "I’m sorry too. But Winn is about to be even sorrier."

"Ivy, please." Eugene stepped closer. "My family cannot know." His eyes pleaded with her in a way that stripped him of all pride.

She finally turned to face him. "Why not?" she asked softly.

"My father..." Eugene swallowed. "He’s very traditional. You’ve met him. This would destroy him."

"I’m not going to say anything," she said at last. "And trust me, Winn will not say or do anything either."

Eugene exhaled shakily, relief washing over his face. "Thank you."

"Take care of yourself," she said over her shoulder.

And with that, she walked out, the door closing softly behind her—leaving Eugene standing alone in the quiet, surrounded by a life that suddenly felt far less secure than it had an hour ago.

*****

Winn arrived at the Kane estate with his mother riding stiffly beside him, her hands folded in her lap. The drive had been quiet. Anna had insisted she wanted to go back home. There was really nothing he could say to make her stay a bit longer. Not when the house she wanted to return to was the one place she believed she could still feel Sylvia’s presence.

The iron gates opened smoothly. The moment Reese drove in, Tom was already at the door. With the pretentious air of a caring husband, he hurried forward and pulled Anna into a hug.

Winn stood behind them, simmering.

Tom’s hand spread over Anna’s back, his chin resting atop her head. Winn’s jaw tightened. His fists curled at his sides. Every instinct in him screamed to rip Tom away from her, to shove him back and finally say all the things he had to say. Instead, he breathed.

Anna clung to Tom. She couldn’t cry anymore—she was out of tears. Her body trembled faintly. She leaned into the hug not because it comforted her, but because standing alone felt impossible.

"Reese," Winn said finally, "could you take mum inside. I need to talk to Tom."

Reese nodded. He stepped forward gently, placing a supportive hand on Anna’s elbow. "Come on, Mrs. Kane," he murmured softly. "Let’s get you settled."

Anna released Tom reluctantly, her eyes unfocused as she allowed Reese to guide her toward the house. Winn watched until the door closed behind them.

"Why would you keep me from seeing my daughter, Winn? My daughter," he started.

"Because her death is your fault," Winn said flatly. "You brought Sharona into our lives, I blame you for her death."

"That’s a cruel thing to say to a grieving father."

"You don’t get to call yourself that," Winn snapped before he could stop himself, then forced his tone back down, iron control snapping into place. He had promised Sam he would play it cool, so there he stood, keeping his anger in check, even as it burned through him. "Everything that happened traces back to your choices. Your greed. Your need to control everyone around you."

"I get it. I understand," Tom said, lifting both hands in a placating gesture that might have fooled a room full of strangers but did nothing for Winn. "When can I see her?"