Undressed By His Arrogance-Chapter 278: What Do You Mean No?

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Chapter 278: What Do You Mean No?

Winn took another sip of coffee, letting the silence stretch a fraction too long before answering. "No."

"No?" He lowered the mug slowly. "What do you mean no? What—your plan is to make a cheater out of her?"

"Not necessarily. She will not be breaking off the engagement. At least not yet."

Evans stared at him, incredulous. "You cannot be serious."

"I am," Winn replied. "This isn’t about what we want. It’s about timing. About safety."

Evans shook his head, frustration flashing across his face. He set the mug down with more force than necessary and leaned forward. "Keep Eugene out of all these games, Winn. He doesn’t deserve it."

"You are right," Winn said after a moment, rolling the coffee mug slowly between his palms. "But the man and I reached an agreement. I cannot give you details but let’s just say..." He lifted his eyes to Evans, one corner of his mouth twitching. "...your taste in men for your niece is—what’s the word—uhm..." He paused theatrically, snapping his fingers as if searching the air. "For lack of a better word... it’s plain stupid."

Evans scoffed, sitting up straighter on the sofa and tugging the blanket off his shoulders. "What are you talking about?" he demanded. "She picked Eugene. She. And besides, there is absolutely nothing wrong with the man. He’s steady, he’s safe, he has no family drama."

"Everyone has family drama," Winn said lightly. "Some people just hide it better." His gaze sharpened, turning serious again. "In the meantime, I need to speak with you and Sam. Together."

Evans groaned, tipping his head back until it rested against the sofa cushion. "I need at least two more cups of these before my brain becomes functional," he muttered, lifting the mug slightly. "And this sofa? This sofa is a crime against humanity. All sofas suck."

Winn smirked. "So you’ve been in the doghouse for a while, I’m guessing."

"My wife won’t talk to me," he said, rubbing a hand over his face. "She looks through me, Winn. Like I’m a ghost who forgot to die properly." He shook his head. "She can’t believe I did something like this. But what did I really do? I kept a secret. That’s it." He spread his hands wide, indignant. "All men keep secrets."

Winn raised an eyebrow slowly. "Yeah," he said dryly. "And we all have to face the consequences when those secrets crawl out into the open."

Evans sighed, shoulders slumping. "I know," he admitted quietly. "I know I hurt her. It was just best that no one knew."

"In all my years," he said slowly, "I have never wanted to kill someone and thank them at the same time." He held Evans’s gaze. "So thank you. For taking care of Liz. For keeping her alive. For loving her when I couldn’t."

"Tell that to my wife!" Evans cried in exasperation, throwing both hands up.

"I will," Winn said calmly, unfazed, taking another measured sip of his coffee. "I’ll talk to her. But first, we have to make a plan, because like it or not—" he emphasized the words with a slight tilt of his head, "—Liz has to come back home. And we have to make sure that when she does, it’s actually safe."

"I’ll go see if Dad is awake," Evans muttered. He drained the rest of his coffee and hauled himself to his feet. His knees cracked audibly. "Fucking hell," he groaned, stretching his back. "If this is what sleeping on a sofa does to a man, I’m banning arguments."

Winn chuckled. "Good luck enforcing that."

A few minutes later, Evans returned with Sam in tow. Sam’s hair was rumpled, his expression thunderous, and his glare locked onto Winn the second he stepped into the living room. Winn, for his part, had the audacity to smile.

"Morning," Winn said cheerfully.

Sam’s jaw tightened. Winn smirked, fully aware that Sam was probably fantasizing about a shovel, a patch of land, and a very long afternoon.

Evans cleared his throat. "Coffee?"

Sam ignored him and dropped heavily into the armchair, elbows on his knees. "So what’s this?" he asked flatly. "A family meeting?"

"You could call it that," Winn replied, setting his mug down and straightening. "I need us all to agree on one thing first: Liz cannot come home with us yet."

The room went quiet.

Sam leaned back slowly. "How long?" he asked.

"I don’t know," Winn admitted. "I don’t know how long it will take." He paused. "I’ve been thinking. How about we take Tom down the same way Sharona went down?"

"Explain," Evans said.

"Sharona was level-headed," he began. "Calculating. Strategic. She believed she could control every variable." He stopped and looked at both men. "But when things began to spiral out of control—when she lost the divorce, when the press leaked that she’d been involved in one too many high-profile separations in the city—she cracked. The arrest, the charges, the public humiliation... She lost her head. She made mistakes."

"Sylvia died because of her mistakes," Evans said quietly. "Because she lost her head. If we do the same thing with Tom—push him, corner him—who will die next?"

None of them answered.

The three men stayed quiet, their thoughts drifting unavoidably to the women in the house. Mary, Irene, Ivy, and little Liz.

Evans broke the silence. "Do you think Ivy and Irene will agree to move here in the meantime?" He hesitated, then added, "Theresa can come here too. At least this place is off Tom’s radar. For now."

Winn shook his head slowly. "Ivy won’t sit back and let us do all the work," he said. "Besides, the mall project is still underway."

Sam nodded, finally speaking after staying quiet for most of the discussion. "He’s right," he said. "She’s already involved. Ivy’s been working quietly with Mike and me, digging into Tom. What she found out about Sharona was just plain luck."

"Excuse me?" Evans snapped, shooting upright on the sofa.

"You are excused," Sam replied coolly. He adjusted his cane where it leaned against his knee.

"She’s been working with Mike?" He turned to Winn briefly, then back to Sam, incredulous. "Doing what exactly? And you allowed this? Grandfather to Nancy Drew now? Is that what we’re doing—turning Ivy into some amateur spy?"

"She asked me for help," he said evenly, "like a proper Everest child. Unlike some people who would rather lie to their family and play lone wolf." 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

"I kept Liz safe," he shot back. "You put Ivy in the line of fire."

"I did no such thing," Sam snapped. "Someone hurt her. She wanted her own pound of flesh. Why should I stop her?" His eyes narrowed. "Why should I clip her wings because it makes you uncomfortable?"

"Are you listening to yourself, Dad?" Evans demanded. "This isn’t a game. This is Tom. This is blood-on-the-floor kind of shit."

Winn leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms loosely over his chest, watching the exchange with stunned fascination. This—this was foreign to him. He and Tom argued constantly, but their conflicts were explosive, brutal, stripped of affection. There was no careful line between fury and love with Tom. It was either scorched earth or silence.

Here, though—this was different.

Sam and Evans didn’t agree on a damn thing right now, but the love between them was obvious.

"Guys..." Winn finally cut in, raising his voice just enough to break through the tension. "I get it." He glanced at Evans. "Evans fucked up."

Evans opened his mouth to protest, but Winn held up a hand.

"He should have trusted the family," Winn continued, "and he had his reasons." He shifted his gaze fully to Evans then. "I know you want to keep the family safe. I respect that." A beat. "But you’ve been playing defense for too long."

Winn straightened. "It’s time to attack."

Sam’s eyes sharpened, a slow, dangerous smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Let’s move forward," Winn finished.

"I say we divide and conquer," Sam said, settling deeper into the armchair. "Evans, you look into his business. That’s your battlefield." He shifted his gaze to Winn, measuring him. "Winn, you are closer. Look inside. Sometimes the fastest way to take down something difficult is from the inside. And whatever information you boys have, I’ll feed to the right channels."

Before either man could respond, soft footsteps padded down the hallway. Mary appeared, fresh-faced and calm in a cardigan, Liz bundled in her arms. Sam’s entire demeanor shifted instantly. His shoulders relaxed. "Come here, sweetheart," he murmured.

Mary smiled and handed Liz over, and Sam balanced her expertly on his lap, one large hand cupping her back, the other letting her tiny fingers curl around his thumb.

"Where is Irene?" Evans asked.

"Where is Ivy?" Winn asked at the exact same time.

Mary raised a brow, amused. "Irene is making breakfast," she said serenely. "And Ivy is taking a shower."

Evans got to his feet. "If you’ll excuse me," he said briskly, "I’m gonna go speak with my wife and hope she doesn’t hit me with a hot pan."