Undressed By His Arrogance-Chapter 253: Were You Crying?

Surprise.

Yeah. Mission accomplished, buddy.

"Your... your cane," she managed, her brain scrambling to catch up. He was dressed beautifully.

"I’m fine," he said, waving it off. "Limping a little, but I’m good. I just can’t stay on my feet for too long."

Ivy swallowed hard. From behind Eugene, she caught a glimpse of Winn approaching. She immediately snapped her focus back to Eugene.

"Were you crying?" Eugene asked gently, his thumb brushing near her cheek.

"Ugh... no," she lied poorly. "I just had too much to drink."

Eugene chuckled, completely buying it. "Well," he said, rocking a little on his heels, "I guess I should wait till you sober up before I pop the question again."

"What... what question?" Ivy whispered, her brain still fuzzy.

"Marry me?" Eugene repeated softly, as if it was the most natural question in the world. As if her body hadn’t been melting seconds earlier for someone else. As if she wasn’t still shaking.

"Eugene..." He looked so earnest, so steady, so safe. Unlike the man behind him whose eyes earlier had promised ownership, sin, destruction, and destiny.

"You just said you love me. What’s the point in dragging this out?" he said, smiling. He had no idea her confession had been meant for someone else—someone whose touch still haunted her skin.

"I..." Ivy’s gaze flicked past him. Winn was still standing there.

She looked back at Eugene.

Safe Eugene.

Uncomplicated Eugene.

The man who wouldn’t ruin her or remake her or set her on fire.

"Yes." she breathed.

"Really?" Eugene blinked, a little stunned.

"Yes."

He let out a breath of pure relief. "I really should be more confident in myself. I was expecting a ’no’. Truly." He pulled her into a hug, his arms gentle, warm, careful.

Ivy looked behind him one more time—one last frantic glance.

But Winn was gone.

A chill shot down her spine so fast she swayed.

"I truly did not come here to propose to you, I promise," Eugene laughed awkwardly, pulling back slightly.

"Funny how things work out," Ivy said.

"Yeah." Eugene smiled, rubbing his thumb gently over her knuckles. "Do you want to go back into the party?"

"Uh... no... no. I was just about to leave." Her heart felt bruised, stretched between two men—one who adored her, and one who could break kingdoms for her.

"Okay," Eugene said warmly. "We’ll take my ride."

"Alright." Ivy slipped her hand through his arm, her body moving automatically while her mind replayed that ballroom moment with Winn on a loop. She followed him toward the courtyard where luxury cars lined the cobblestone driveway.

She glanced back one more time, expecting—hoping?—to catch a glimpse of Winn. A shadow. A silhouette. Those eyes.

No Winn.

No storm.

Just silence.

She assured herself this was the only way to keep Winn at a distance—to put a fortress, and a legal contract between them. To shield herself from a man who could undo her with a look. She needed to protect herself, rebuild herself, silence the part of her that still responded to his voice.

Eugene was safe.

Eugene was sane.

Eugene was stable.

The Rothschilds weren’t complicated people.

*****

Evans answered Mary’s call, adjusting the Bluetooth in his ear as he pulled into the garage beneath the Everest office building. Elizabeth’s crying exploded through the speakers so loudly he winced.

"Hey—seems like you have your hands full, Sis." Evans said, stepping out of the car. He could practically picture Mary pacing her kitchen, hair in a bun, bouncing a fussy baby on her hip.

"You have no idea," Mary whispered breathlessly. A cabinet door slammed on her end. "I have to get back to her, but I wanted to give you a heads up. Sylvis is thinking about telling her brother about Elizabeth now that the divorce is final."

Evans stopped dead in his tracks. "Why the fuck would she do that?"

"Well... Elizabeth is growing. We can’t keep her hidden forever, Evans," Mary said.

"I know that." Evans rubbed a hand over his face, pacing near the elevator. "But I have nothing yet, Mary."

"Tom’s hope was Sharona, and now she’s out of the picture. What’s stopping them from raising their baby?"

Evans swallowed hard. The elevator dinged, but he didn’t get in. He leaned against the steel door, his heart thudding.

"Because Tom has been quiet all this time," Evans said in a low, shaken voice. "And it scares me. Quiet with him doesn’t mean peace. Quiet means planning. Plotting. Waiting for the right moment to strike."

Mary sighed on the other end. Elizabeth wailed even louder.

"A few weeks ago," Evans continued, "Ivy was attacked again. A hit and run. Someone tried to take her out. Again. I don’t have anything yet, Mary, and she is still in danger." His breath came fast now. "Sis... please. Talk her out of it. Sylvia cannot tell him. Not now."

"Evans... she’s tired."

"I don’t give a damn how tired she is," Evans snapped, then quickly closed his eyes, gripping the bridge of his nose. "Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just—I need more time. Tom cannot get his hands on Elizabeth."

"I don’t know, Evans. This has gone on for too long." Mary said. "The longer it goes on, the harder it will be to tell them. But I’ll try to propose a pause to Sylvia."

"How is Elizabeth?" he asked, softening. The mention of her always did that—reminded him why he was fighting in the shadows.

"Oh, she is beautiful," Mary said. "I’ll send you a picture. Just gorgeous. She does look more and more like her father."

"Great... traitor," Evans muttered, rubbing a hand over his jaw as he fought a reluctant smile.

"Right. I gotta go. Say hi to Irene for me, will ya? She never calls me. And give Theresa a kiss for me too."

"Will do. See ya, Sis."

He ended the call and leaned against the walls of the elevator. Secrets. Lies. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could juggle all the burning pieces himself.