Undressed By His Arrogance-Chapter 266: I Don’t Give A Fuck

Winn blinked. That was his first reaction. The second was a chuckle.

"My life," Winn said, dragging a hand down his face, "is officially a tragic fucking soap opera."

Winn gestured vaguely toward the car blocking the road. "Get your fucking car out of my way or I am going to knock you and that shit off the street. I don’t care who you claim to be."

Tim didn’t budge.

He stepped closer instead, and Reese stepped between them.

"What do you think is going to happen to you if you kill him?" Tim asked. "You think you can walk into Tom’s house, shoot him, and go home?"

Winn tilted his head, that eerie calm settling over him. "I don’t give a fuck."

"Prison," Tim snapped. "Life. Maybe execution."

"I don’t see how that is any of your business, Tim Kane. I won’t say it again, get the fuck out of my way," Winn shouted. His hand hovered near his holster.

Tim looked exhausted, older than he should be, his shoulders carrying years of regret. "You want Elizabeth to grow up without her father? Visit him behind bars?"

That name—the name Winn had barely allowed himself to believe—hit like a blade under his ribs.

Winn’s reaction was instant, feral, instinctive. He whipped out the gun from his holster, aiming it squarely between Tim’s eyes. "How the hell do you know about her?"

Tim didn’t step back. He just breathed in slow, steady, as if this wasn’t the first time someone pointed death at him. "Looks like you know about her already...Evans told me."

"What did you say?"

"Evans told me everything a couple of months ago," Tim said, keeping his hands visible. "He had been working with... with your sister to keep Elizabeth safe." 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

His grip tightened on the gun. "Evans knew?"

Tim swallowed hard. "Look. I didn’t know you were my son. Evans did the math... searched for me. He called me in today because he predicted that you were going to do this. Kill Tom."

Tim stepped closer, very slowly. "I know how you feel. I know the rage burning you alive right now. I have wanted to kill the man too for years." His lips twisted in grief. "And he is my brother."

"You think you showing up here changes anything? You think I won’t pull this trigger because you claim we share DNA?"

Tim took a breath that shook. "No. I think you won’t pull it because your daughter deserves a father who isn’t behind bars for murder."

Every muscle in Winn’s body locked.

"So... Evans and Sylvia were working together?" Winn asked.

"Yes," Tim said quietly. "For a common goal."

"A common goal," Winn repeated, shaking his head. "What the fuck does that even mean anymore? Evans knows everything?" His eyes searched Tim’s face for a lie.

"Yes." Tim nodded slowly. "He does."

Winn swallowed, hard. "Evans found out you—Tom’s brother—are my father. Looks like Evans knows more about me than I do."

Tim exhaled with a weary softness, stepping closer until the space between them held the tension of two men tied by regret. "Winn... he called me here to help you. You are almost at the finish line."

"How! How!" Winn snapped. "Tell me how! He has ruined my life! And his schemes—his greed—has taken my sister away from me!"

"I know," Tim said softly. "I know, Winn. But right now? You’re hanging by a thread, and I need you to breathe."

Winn dragged both hands over his face, leaving streaks of frustration in their wake. His chest heaved. He was shaking from being too full. Full of grief, betrayal, rage, and loneliness.

"I need you to get in your car and leave, Winn," Tim said. "Have someone else make the death announcement to your mother."

"No. No. I have to do it." His lip trembled, and he pressed it tight. "She... she won’t take it well."

"Then I’ll go with you," he said. "Won’t be a happy reunion between me and my brother but... well... we’ve never been happy."

"He told me he was adopted a few weeks ago."

"Yeah. He was."

Tim extended his hand. "Come on. Hand me the guns, Winn. You don’t need them. At least not today."

"I’m not handing you my guns. I still don’t trust who the fuck you say you are!" Winn snapped. His shoulders were rigid, his stance wide, one gun still warm in his grip.

Tim lifted his hands in a lazy gesture. "Trust issues," he said, smirking lightly. "First thing we will have to work on." His eyes held a spark of humor.

"You think this is funny," Winn spat, stepping forward. "You think I am something to snicker about? Get the fuck in your car and get the hell out of here."

"I can’t do that until you let the guns go, Winn," Tim replied, not moving an inch. "Look, today is the wrongest, bitchiest day to find out about me. I get that." He gave a wry grin. "You need to realize I am trying to help you. It may not look like it right now, but I swear it on my miserable, dysfunctional-ass life."

"I don’t need you," Winn hissed. "But you’re right. My daughter does need me. Oh, and... if you tell Evans you told me about her... the bullet in this gun will be directed at you. Understood?" He tapped the barrel lightly against his thigh, his eyes locked with Tim’s in a dare.

Tim nodded once. "Of course." He didn’t break eye contact.

Winn exhaled a long, shaky breath. The fight drained from his shoulders, leaving only exhaustion and grim acceptance. With a quick, tense motion, he unholstered the second gun. Then he turned to Reese—who had been leaning against the trunk of the car, arms crossed, watching the drama unfold.

"You can use it instead if necessary," Winn said as he handed both weapons to Reese.

Reese nodded, and both of them climbed back into the car. He started the engine and the vehicle eased back onto the quiet road as Tim cleared the path. As they drove, the sun began to peel itself over the horizon—soft orange bleeding into gray, turning the edges of the city gold. It should’ve been beautiful.