Undressed By His Arrogance-Chapter 291: I Believe So

"I believe so," Evans said.

"Can you clear her floor? I don’t want to risk any one seeing me going to see her."

"I’ll get Marissa right on it." Evans reached for his phone, already dialing. He spoke in clipped, efficient phrases.

Winn got to his feet, he paced once, then stopped near the window, rubbing a hand over his face.

"You hear from Mary?" Winn asked once he was done.

"Yeah. Elizabeth’s good."

"You think I can risk going up there. I... I miss my daughter."

"Don’t take the jet. Have someone else book the flight. But if you go there too often, might raise brows." Evans said.

"I hate this." Winn’s jaw tightened, lips pressing into a thin line. He hated the secrecy, the distance, the constant weighing of risk versus love. He hated that every choice now came with consequences he couldn’t always see.

"I know."

"see ya, Evans." Winn finally said and strolled out of the office.

He took the stairs to the floor Ivy’s office was on and headed straight to her office.

The hallway was eerily quiet—Marissa had done her job well. When Winn reached Ivy’s door, it was slightly ajar, as if she’d meant to close it and forgotten.

When he got there, she was asleep at her desk, her computer open in front of her.

Spreadsheets on the mall project glowed on the screen. Ivy’s head was tilted to the side, cheek resting against her forearm, hair spilling messily across the desk.

He looked at his watch, it was ten in the morning.

He walked over to her then, planting a kiss on her hair before shaking her awake gently. "Hey love." He said.

He brushed his thumb lightly against her temple, resisting the urge to scoop her up and take her somewhere safe and quiet.

Ivy opened her eyes groggily. "Hey... Winn."

A small smile tugged at her lips—the kind that lived deeper than exhaustion.

"Are you okay?" Winn crouched slightly so they were eye level, concern written openly across his face. He searched her for signs—panic, strain, cracks she was too stubborn to admit.

"Yeah, just tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night." She straightened a little. Her fingers reached for his sleeve unconsciously.

"Are you still having nightmares?" Winn asked.

"Uh..."

"Come on, babe. When will you finally admit you need help?" Watching Ivy suffer quietly terrified him.

"I’m fine. Once this mess is over, I will seek help. Happy?" Ivy asked.

Winn sighed. "Temporarily appeased," he murmured. "But not convinced."

"I came to see Evans, thought I would stop by and see you. I miss you." He said. He hadn’t planned this visit—not really. But once he was in the building, once he knew she was just a few floors away, the pull had been impossible to ignore. Missing Ivy was a constant ache, one that worsened the longer he pretended distance was bearable.

"Aww... I miss you too." She reached for his hand, squeezing it lightly. No matter how tired she was, no matter how chaotic everything felt, Winn still made the world slow down.

"I promise, its almost over. I’m going to meet Joey at Commissioned tonight. Discuss our plans. Hopefully, Tom will reach out to him again after the interview."

Winn straightened slightly as he spoke, the strategist returning. Still, beneath it, she could hear the strain. He was tired too. Carrying too much. Holding the line so she and Elizabeth would be safe.

"You’re being careful right?" Ivy searched his face, eyes scanning for cracks he might be hiding.

Winn smiled. "Always, love. Always. I need to see you, babe. I’m going crazy."

He leaned closer. "If I didn’t steal moments like this," he added quietly, "I think I’d lose my damn mind."

"I think we can work something out. Go off the grid." Ivy chuckled.

"I have to go now. Evans had Marissa clear your floor for a few minutes so..."

He hesitated, then bent low and kissed her.

His lips lingered just long enough to remind her what they were fighting for, what waited on the other side of this mess.

"Take care."

"I will," Ivy murmured.

She nodded and watched him leave, eyes following him until the door clicked shut behind him.

She yawned, rubbing at her eyes as exhaustion finally reclaimed its hold. Ivy glanced at the clock and decided she’d close for the day once it was lunch time and catch up on some sleep. Just a few hours. Enough to reset.

*****

Tim sat on the bench in front of the upscale elementary school Mel attended waiting for the bell to ring.

The school was pristine—manicured hedges, wide walkways, pastel-painted walls designed to look cheerful and safe. Parents clustered nearby, chatting idly, checking phones, comparing schedules. Tim kept his posture relaxed, one ankle resting over the opposite knee, hands folded loosely in his lap.

But he wasn’t here for Mel.

He was waiting for one specific person.

She would come here everyday, right on time to pick up her daughter.

Tim’s gaze lifted as the first bell rang. Children poured out in noisy clusters, laughter and chatter filling the air. He scanned faces calmly, patiently, already anticipating the moment she would appear.

The afternoon sun reflected off the SUV as Morgana pulled into the pickup lane. Her posture was relaxed, one hand on the steering wheel, the other already reaching for the door lock as she scanned the crowd. Then she saw him.

Tim rose from the bench as if this were a planned social call and not an ambush. Every step he took toward her car felt heavy in her chest. Her pulse spiked, but her face remained composed.

"Nurse Adams." He said calmly, leaning through the window. "Nice to see you again. Thirty seven years and you are still as beautiful as ever."

Tim rested one arm on the window frame. His eyes lingered on her face, tracing lines time had etched and finding satisfaction there. Morgana stiffened, every instinct screaming danger even as part of her recoiled at how easily he still unsettled her.

"Tim!" Morgana quickly masked her shock with glee. "Hey! What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you actually." Tim smiled. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

Morgana’s grip tightened on the steering wheel.

"Uh... why?" She kept her tone light, brows lifting in polite confusion, but her heart hammered painfully.

"I hear you are my dear brother’s side piece. It got me thinking. Did I really make a mistake the night my father died or did you and Tom set me up. You, my father’s nurse and my diabolical brother."

"I don’t know what you are talking about." Morgana said. "And please, you are making me uncomfortable."

"Am I?" Tim chuckled softly. "I’m going to start digging, Nurse Adams. And you can tell my dear brother, I’m coming for him."

His eyes gleamed with anticipation. Morgana felt a cold knot settle in her stomach.

Mel came out of the school then.

Morgana spotted her immediately, backpack bouncing, ponytail swaying as she scanned the parking lot.

"Please, get away from me." Morgana said as she reached to the other side of the car and opened the door for her daughter to get in. "Hey pumpkin."

She smiled at her daughter, brushing hair from Mel’s face as she climbed in, shielding her with her body as much as she could.

"See you later, Nurse Adams." Tim smiled, waved to the little girl in the car and stepped away.

He looked pleased—far too pleased. The car door shut, the lock clicked, and Morgana pulled out of the pickup lane without looking back, her heart racing despite her calm exterior.

He could see he had disturbed the waters. Task complete. Now, they would both be on edge.

Tim watched the vehicle disappear into traffic, satisfaction settling into his bones. That was all it ever took—one well-placed reminder of the past, one whispered doubt. Morgana would tell Tom. Of course she would. And Tom would react exactly the way Tim needed him to—sloppily, with fear gnawing at his heels.

He pulled out his phone and put a call across to Evans.

The phone rang once before it connected.

"Fire in the hole." Tim said and then hung up.

He slid the phone back into his pocket, lips curving faintly. The game was in motion now.

*****

Commissioned pulsed with low bass and expensive indulgence. The private booth was elevated, shielded by tinted glass that allowed Winn and Joey to observe without being observed. On stage, the dancer moved with lazy confidence, body glowing under the lights as bills fluttered at her feet. Joey leaned back, one arm draped over the booth’s leather seat, while Winn sat forward, elbows on his knees, eyes distant despite the spectacle.

"So, Trish is sure this boy is Tom’s son?" Winn asked.

His gaze flicked briefly to the stage before returning to the reflection in the glass—his own face looking older, harder than it had any right to be.

(please, do not purchase privilege for next month. Undressed by his arrogance will end soon.)