Undressed By His Arrogance-Chapter 243: They All Do

"She treats me like a child. They all do. Ignore her," Sam mumbled to Winn.

"What are you even doing here?" she demanded at Winn, trying to keep her balance in her heels. The room tilted just a little, and Winn’s eyes flickered to her unsteadiness—subtle concern tightening his jaw.

"I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for three days now."

Sam pushed himself to his feet with the help of his cane. "I’ll leave you two to talk," he muttered, wobbling toward the hallway.

"You don’t pick my calls anymore?" Winn asked.

"I was busy with something."

Winn took two slow steps toward her, his gaze dipping down her figure—her jacket awkwardly draped over her sling, her hair still scented with club smoke and champagne.

"Busy," he echoed with a knowing smirk. "Right."

Her cheeks heated.

"I came to say thank you."

"For what?"

"For what you did," he said quietly, sincerity threading through his tone. "The business with Sharona is done with—and it’s all thanks to you."

He took another step forward, closing the gap until she could feel the heat of him.

"I did kind of pay a heavy price for that. Myself and Eugene. But I am guessing you didn’t know." Ivy said.

"What do you mean?" He took a step closer.

Ivy exhaled. She pulled her jacket open and away, revealing the cast on her arm. "Hit and run. Eugene saved me. Has a small fracture, nothing major." Her gaze flicked over Winn’s face, waiting for the explosion.

"Son of a bitch!!!" He didn’t disappoint. The growl that tore from his chest vibrated the air. Winn dragged a hand through his hair. His shoulders were tense, muscles standing out beneath his shirt. The sight should not have made heat curl in her belly, but it did. Damn him.

"Listen," Ivy said quickly, before he combusted and took half the city with him. "I am not telling you so you run off and shoot someone in the brain again. Just let sleeping dogs lie, okay?"

Winn looked at her—his gaze dark. "I said anyone that hurts you will have hell to pay."

"You are not responsible for me anymore. What do you think is going to happen when you shoot your ex-wife in the brains? Spend the rest of your life in jail, is that what you want?"

"Maybe that’s what I deserve for constantly putting you in harm’s way."

"Anyway," she said quietly, softer than she intended, "we don’t even know if this has anything to do with your divorce." She hesitated, then stepped closer. "Please, don’t do anything or say anything." Ivy reached out with her good hand and touched his wrist, a small anchor, a small plea.

Winn’s eyes dropped to her hand on him, lingered there a moment too long, then rose to meet hers again with a heat that made her stomach twist.

"You’re asking me not to burn down the world for you," he murmured.

"I’m asking you not to burn yourself with it," she whispered.

"And do what? Wait until they finally succeed?" Winn asked. His fingers flexed at his sides, as if imagining some enemy’s throat between them. The idea of waiting—of doing nothing—was foreign to him. It went against every feral, protective instinct he had.

"Patience unties all knots," Ivy replied, lifting her uninjured hand in a small gesture of calm. "I was patient enough to find you those documents. If I need Sharona away forever, I am patient enough for that too. Don’t spook her. Don’t let her know I am on to her. Doing so puts me in danger further."

Winn sighed, a long exhale as if he were letting out the last of his restraint. Of course she was right. She usually was. That didn’t stop the frustration from grinding through his chest. "How is Eugene?" he asked, softer. It came out grudgingly gentle.

"He is fine. He is back home now."

Winn nodded. Both of them stood there, caught between past and present, too close to walk away but too damaged to step forward. It was ridiculous how they still gravitated toward each other.

"So, I’m gonna go," Winn finally said. He stepped back, but his eyes lingered on her.

"Yeah, sure."

Out of habit—he leaned in to kiss her. Ivy moved her head just slightly, enough that his lips brushed her cheek instead of her mouth.

"Goodnight," she whispered.

"Yeah..." Winn cleared his throat, stepping back.

"Oh, I was supposed to travel to the Netherlands next week to keep the investors apprised of the project’s progress."

"You have to postpone," Winn said immediately. "I will speak with them. You can go some other time."

"Thank you," Ivy said quietly.

Winn nodded once more, the gesture short, stiff. "See you around," he murmured, and then he turned, broad shoulders angling toward the door. His footsteps echoed faintly down the hall.

When the door finally clicked shut, Ivy let out a breath she hadn’t even known she was holding. It rushed out of her chest in a soft, exhausted exhale. God, his presence... no matter how much she tried to rationalize it, bury it, starve it, it still wrapped itself around her nerves.

She rubbed her forehead. She needed sleep.

*****

Sharona woke up to the sound of her phone ringing relentlessly—shrill, persistent, slicing through the quiet of the luxurious bedroom she had grown too used to.

She sat up slowly, her head pounding from last night’s wine.

She still hadn’t moved out of Winn’s Tribeca home and she had lived in it alone for almost a year as his wife. Queen of the damn castle. The envy of social climbers everywhere. Now she had to give it all up because the façade had crumbled. Because Ivy—little irritating, stubborn, unkillable Ivy—had dug her claws in where she shouldn’t have.

Tom had warned her. But Sharona had waved him off. She had underestimated Ivy. Turns out Ivy had teeth. Sharp ones.

"Oh, she is going to pay," Sharona muttered as she reached for her phone. "The bitch is going to pay in ways that haven’t been invented yet."