Undressed By His Arrogance-Chapter 316: How Is He?

"Fine, let’s go." Ivy straightened. She walked past Evans and out of the ICU corridor.

Reese spotted her immediately and hurried over, his usual laid-back swagger replaced with raw concern. "How is he?" he asked, eyes scanning her face.

"He’ll be fine," Ivy said without hesitation.

She pivoted toward Mike. "Did you bring Winn up to speed about Raphael working with Sharona?" she asked.

Mike grimaced. "No. He said he’d call me and Trish to have a sit-down, but... things spiraled. He never got the time."

"Raphael was working with Sharona?" Maurice interjected, disbelief written all over his face.

Ivy didn’t even look at him.

She didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to manage Maurice’s late awakening. Her mind was already three steps ahead, rearranging the chessboard. Shock was a luxury for people not fighting for someone’s life.

She turned to Evans. "Have Winn moved to a more secure floor. I want guards."

Evans nodded immediately. "I’ll make the call."

She turned next to Mike. "Go to Raphael’s house. Now. See if you can find him or anything that tells us where he ran to. I want updates in real time."

Mike was already moving, fingers flying over his screen. "On it."

Then she looked at Reese. Her gaze softened just a fraction, enough to remind him why he’d follow her into hell without hesitation. "Reese, you’re coming with me."

He gave a short nod, jaw set. "Always."

She inhaled slowly, steadying herself before turning back to Evans one last time.

"I want our daughter here," Ivy said quietly. "I want her here with him."

Evans stiffened. "Ivy—"

"I need him to know what he’s fighting for," she cut in. "I need him to know what he would be leaving behind if he gives up. She needs to see him."

"Ivy—no!" Evans started again. He stepped forward, hand already reaching. His mind was screaming worst-case scenarios.

Before he could take another step, Sam moved.

The old man’s grip was firm despite his age, fingers locking around Evans’s arm with surprising strength.

"Of course," Sam said calmly. "Anything you want, sweetie."

Evans spun toward him in disbelief. "Dad—are you serious right now? You can’t really let her—" He gestured wildly toward Ivy’s retreating back. "Am I the only sane person in this family?"

Sam watched Ivy walk away, her shoulders squared, her steps purposeful.

"Let her," Sam said at last, a slow smile curving his mouth in pride. "They finally woke the monster."

Evans ran a hand down his face, exhaling hard. "You’re enjoying this way too much. Are you really going to bring Elizabeth here? Now?"

"We’ll stall," he said practically. "But at some point, we’ll have to do what she says."

That was when Anna stepped closer, having hovered quietly on the edges of the conversation, her face still blotchy from crying, her body visibly exhausted. Confusion flickered across her features, cutting through the fog of grief.

"Who is Elizabeth?" she asked softly.

Sam sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Well," he muttered, "it was going to come out sooner or later." He lifted his gaze to Anna. "Your granddaughter."

Tim held Anna instinctively, arms wrapping around her.

"I—what?" Anna whispered, eyes wide, breath shallow. "Grand...daughter?"

"It’s a long story," Sam said gently. "We’ll tell you everything as soon as Winn is okay."

Anna shook her head, overwhelmed, tears spilling again—from shock, from sudden joy. A grandchild. A future.

Tim tightened his hold on her, his mind racing in a different direction entirely. He’d been quiet for too long, watching the pieces move, listening more than speaking. Now he stepped forward, brows drawn together.

"Something bugs me," he said slowly.

Everyone turned to him.

"If the goal was to kill Winn," Tim continued, "why use a poison with an antidote?"

Evans frowned. Sam’s smile faded.

"Go on," Sam said quietly.

Tim’s eyes narrowed as the implications took shape. "It means Raphael doesn’t want him dead—at least not yet."

"And wanted time," Evans added slowly.

"I think this is a ransom situation." Tim declared.

******

Reese drove like a man who understood the assignment. The city blurred past them in streaks. Ivy sat rigid in the passenger seat, seatbelt forgotten, her body angled toward him as questions poured out of her in a relentless stream.

Reese answered each one.

They rolled through the iron gates of the Orchard compound, guards stepping aside the moment they recognized the car. The house loomed ahead. Winn’s house. Ivy’s chest tightened painfully at the sight of it. Reese escorted her straight upstairs.

Winn’s bedroom still smelled like him. Ivy swallowed hard, forcing herself to focus as Reese crossed to the wall panel and opened the hidden safe. The door swung open with a soft mechanical sigh. Ivy reached in, fingers wrapping around Winn’s handguns. They were heavier than she expected.

"Do you know how to use those?" Reese asked carefully, watching her face more than the weapons.

"You can teach me on the way," she said flatly, already turning toward the door.

They were back in the car seconds later, tires screaming as Reese peeled out of the compound.

"Where next?" Reese asked.

"Tom."

"Yes, ma’am," he said.

Morgana’s townhouse rose into view soon after. Reese parked across the street, engine idling low.

"Do you think he’s home?" Ivy asked, eyes scanning the windows.

"Only one way to find out." Reese started to open his door.

"No." Ivy stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Let me."

Reese frowned.

"He’ll let me in," she said quietly. "He underestimates me. Give me five minutes. Then you come in."

"Five minutes," he agreed reluctantly.

Ivy got out of the car. She walked toward the townhouse and rang the bell.

Inside, Tom Kane looked up from his phone, irritation already forming on his lips—until he saw who stood on his doorstep. Surprise flickered across his face.

"Well, well, well... if it isn’t the princess," Tom drawled, leaning casually against the doorway. His smile was lazy, confident. "Can I help you with something?"