Undressed By His Arrogance-Chapter 263: I Saved Her
Two words burst out of her mouth.
"LOOK OUT!"
Her body moved before thought could interfere.
She didn’t think about Anna.
She didn’t think about Tom.
She didn’t think about Elizabeth.
She only thought one thing—
I won’t let Ivy die. I can’t break Winn’s heart again.
And then she moved.
Fast.
Fearless.
Sylvia lunged in front of Ivy with the raw desperation of someone willing to burn the world down to protect one person.
She threw herself directly into the line of fire.
For a split second—just one—she saw Sharona’s eyes widen in irritation. The bitch hadn’t expected Sylvia but it was too late she had pulled the trigger.
There were series of gunshots. Then came the violent crunch of vehicles slamming into each other, the sickening bend of metal, the burst of glass raining.
Ivy saw it all.
She saw the exact moment the bullet found Sylvia.
Saw the tiny jerk of Sylvia’s body, the shock flicker across her eyes—the disbelief, brief and sharp—before acceptance, heartbreaking, devastatingly final settled in her gaze.
And then everything around Ivy dissolved into chaos.
The screams of workers rushing for safety.
The screech of tires burning grooves into the gravel.
The thick, choking smell of rubber igniting against the ground.
Dust billowing up in clouds that stung her eyes.
But none of that broke her.
What broke Ivy—what crushed her heart mercilessly, instantly—was the way Sylvia reached for her as she fell. The way her fingers curled into Ivy’s shirt. The small, breathless sound she made as her knees buckled. The heat of her body collapsing against Ivy’s own.
Ivy screamed Sylvia’s name as she crumpled with her, hands trembling as she tried to keep Sylvia upright, as if holding her harder could undo the bullet tearing through her.
And then—
Winn arrived.
He and Reese didn’t arrive quietly, gracefully, or prepared.
They slammed into the scene.
The Maybach crashed directly into Sharona’s Ferrari, the impact loud enough to drown out Ivy’s screams. The Ferrari spun out, dust exploding around it as it whipped sideways, metal screeching under pressure. Sharona’s head snapped forward violently against the seat, her sunglasses flying off her face.
Time slowed for Winn.
It slowed with the eerie clarity of a nightmare you can’t wake from.
He saw Sharona’s vehicle twisting.
He saw Ivy’s bodyguard crouched low, braced, firing a final shot that sent Sharona slumping sideways, incapacitated instantly.
He saw the workers scattering.
But he didn’t care about any of that.
Because when he pushed the car door open—stumbling out with a heart already beating itself to death—his eyes found Sylvia.
Sylvia.
His sister.
The woman who had betrayed him, hurt him.
The woman he had loved first, longest, fiercest.
And she was falling.
She was folding to the earth, her body limp.
For a moment, Winn couldn’t move.
His brain couldn’t make sense of it.
She wasn’t supposed to be here.
She was supposed to be in Canada—far away, out of danger, out of his life for now.
He felt the world tilt. Air rushed out of his lungs in a hard, broken gasp as he stumbled forward.
He didn’t feel the scrape of gravel under his knees when he dropped down beside her.
Didn’t notice Reese shouting at 911 behind him.
All Winn could see was Sylvia’s face.
His baby sister.
His stubborn, infuriating, beautiful, reckless baby sister.
Seeing her slipping to the ground—seeing her eyes flutter, her breath stutter, her blood staining Ivy’s shirt—that single image burned through Winn.
He reached for Sylvia with shaking hands.
"Syl..." he breathed.
"Winn! I’ve been...I’ve been looking for you. I need to tell you something." Sylvia grunted. She blinked rapidly, as if each flutter of her lashes could physically hold on to consciousness a little longer. Blood soaked through her blouse, spreading.
"Don’t...don’t speak." Winn scooped her up in his arms. "Don’t speak, love." His hands shook violently where they pressed to her back, trying to stem the bleeding. His entire body was coiled in panic—a brother’s terror.
"I saved her." Sylvia gasped, a wet rattle in her throat. "I saved her, forgive me please." Her fingers curled around the collar of his shirt, desperately anchoring herself to the brother she had lost long before today.
"Yeah, you did good. You did good, sis... but now you have to stop talking." He pressed his forehead to hers, his breath uneven. "Save your energy. Alright? Just stay with me."
"No!" she choked out, gripping his jaw. She pulled Winn closer until her lips brushed the shell of his ear, and her warm breath shuddered across his neck.
"Elizabeth..." she whispered, and the name sliced through Winn. "I saved her. I took her to keep her away from Tom. Don’t let Tom know about her." Her body twisted, pain overtaking her, but she fought through the agony because the truth had claws. "I took her because he killed Diane."
Winn froze—completely, utterly froze—his face draining of color as the horror of her words settled. His arms tightened instinctively.
His head whipped up to look at Ivy. She was a few feet away, trembling uncontrollably, her hands still smeared with Sylvia’s blood where she had tried to help. Her face was ashen, her lips parted in shock. Her body guard hovered protectively in front of her, scanning the perimeter with his gun raised, but even he looked shaken.
Ivy’s eyes met Winn’s and the sheer terror in them made his stomach twist.
The paramedics arrived in record time, rushing with gurneys and oxygen masks. The flashing red and blue lights painted everyone’s faces in frantic colors—pain in red, fear in blue, hope in white.
They took Sylvia first, strapping her in, speaking loudly over the chaos as if their volume could tether her to life. They took Sharona next, unconscious and handcuffed to the stretcher, her face twisted with blood and fury. Officers were already swarming her vehicle.
Winn didn’t look anywhere else but at Ivy. His world had narrowed into a single, shaking line: his sister’s confession.
(This is to 200 power stones. Next: 400)
