Undressed By His Arrogance Chapter 283: You Reported To The Police?

"The detectives aren’t done with their investigation," he said finally.

Tom’s face twisted. "What the fuck do they need her body for?" he snapped. "I need to bury my daughter." His hands clenched into fists.

"Because your daughter—my sister—is the pri suspect in the death of Diane Winsford," he said.

Tom staggered back half a step, his eyes widening. "You... you reported to the police?!" he barked. At that exact mont, Reese stepped back outside, his gaze flicking between them.

"Don’t co at , okay?" Winn said quickly. "I have been through the wringer these past few days. My sister is dead. My best friend just quit as my COO. And—not to add—the woman I am in love with is getting married to another man. So, please..." He exhaled sharply. "If you’re looking for soone to unload on, I’m already fucking full."

"Winn, you really want to drag your sister’s na through the mud right now? When we should be mourning her?"

Winn’s eyes flashed. "Am I supposed to let Joey just live his life without really knowing what happened to his wife?" he shot back. "Am I supposed to protect a lie because it’s inconvenient for you?" He took a step closer. "Besides, there is nothing more they can do to Sylvia. She is dead, isn’t she? It’s over now," Winn continued, "and you have nothing to hurt with anymore."

He locked eyes with Tom and didn’t look away. He watched the minute tightening of Tom’s jaw. Winn catalogued every reaction, every breath, every pause. Years of living under Tom’s shadow had taught him how to read the man.

"Winn... this is not the ti for our family to be shattered. We need to be together right now," Tom said. He took a careful step closer, hands open, palms out. The peacemaker pose. The look how reasonable I’m being routine.

"Sylvia was the only thing holding to this family," he said quietly. "She is gone now."

Tom’s brows knit together. "You cannot an that," he said quickly. "I get that you hate , but what about your mother? You can’t just walk away from her."

"I will check in on her periodically," he said. "I still don’t understand why she will not dump you. God knows what kind of hold you have on her."

"We should at least plan the funeral together," he offered, reaching for control wherever he could find it.

"I will let you know as soon as we can begin funeral plans," Winn replied crisply, already done with the conversation.

Tom nodded. "This may not an anything to you right now," he said, "but I am sorry for everything."

Winn finally looked him straight in the eye. "Go to hell, Tom," he said calmly.

Then he turned and got into the car.

The door shut with a decisive thud that echoed across the driveway. Reese was already in the driver’s seat, hands on the wheel, eyes forward. Gravel crunched beneath the tires as he maneuvered them away from the estate, the house shrinking behind them.

"You gave too much information," Reese said after a beat.

"On purpose," he replied. "I needed to slip in Joey quitting too."

Reese shot him a quick glance. "You’re baiting him."

"Exactly. Now we wait for him to make a move on Joey."

"Boss, are you sure about this?" Reese asked. Orchard Ville was still a good twenty minutes away.

"I trust Joey," Winn said, staring out the window, jaw set. "It doesn’t matter how hurt he is." He paused, "Pain doesn’t change who Joey is."

"I still think you should have told Mr Winsford your plans."

"I will," he whispered. He did trust Joey—not because Joey was his best friend, not because of years of loyalty—but because Joey had always, always, chosen what was right.

The car rolled into Orchard Ville just a little bit after 10pm. Winn straightened when he spotted a familiar car already parked outside the house. Reese hadn’t even fully stopped before Winn was unbuckling his seatbelt.

He got out quickly, and strode toward the house. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

"Ivy?" he called.

She stood in the living room with her back to him, perfectly still.

"Is everything alright?!" Winn asked, urgency sharpening his voice.

Ivy turned around.

The mont he saw her face—the fire in her eyes, the rigid line of her jaw, the way her hands were clenched at her sides—he knew, with absolute certainty, that he was screwed.

"What gives you the right?" Ivy demanded.

"If you would elaborate," he said carefully, "then I would gladly answer that question."

"You knew Eugene was... was gay? And you threatened him so he would stay engaged to ?"

"I didn’t threaten him," he said. "I took advantage of a situation."

"You don’t get to manipulate my life, Winn. I am not one of your fucking assets."

"It was the best way to ensure you would be waiting for when all these is over." He said.

Ivy slapped him without blinking. "How dare you? Waiting for you? Waiting for you?!"

Winn’s head snapped slightly to the side from the force of it, his jaw tightening as he sucked in a breath. Ivy’s chest rose and fell rapidly, her eyes blazing, every ounce of her fury focused on him. Her hand trembled from the sheer force of emotion coursing through her.

Winn sucked in a breath. "Yes!"

He turned his face back to her, eyes dark, unflinching, as if daring her to understand the depth of what he ant.

She slapped him again. Winn groaned, a sound more of frustration than pain. "It was the best decision at the ti."

She lifted her hand again to slap him but he caught it midair this ti, spinning her around with her back to his chest. His grip was firm, one arm pinning hers behind her, the other braced at her waist, his breath hot against her ear.

"When will you understand I will do anything to keep you? When will you get it? You are mine. I’ll move the earth to keep it that way."