Undressed By His Arrogance-Chapter 292: Have You Spoken To Her?

"Yeah, she said his name is James." Joey nodded, swirling the ice in his glass. "Kid looks like him too."

"Hmmm... He really is a terrible father. I wonder if Morgana is just as trapped and afraid of him like my mum."

The dancer’s movements blurred into the background as he thought of his mother—quiet, shrinking, enduring.

"Have you spoken to her?" Joey asked

"Her health is frail. I don’t want to bother her." Winn exhaled slowly, fingers tightening around his glass.

"Well, are you sure after the interview, Tom will be making another pass at me?" Joey asked.

"Tom can’t help himself. If he smells opportunity—he’ll come running."

"I fucked Trish." Joey announced. He leaned back, fingers drumming lightly against the glass of his Rose, looking far too pleased with himself. The dancer on the stage became a blur as Winn’s mind tried to process the revelation.

"Well, that was random. Is it just a fuck or something more?"

"I have no idea." Joey shrugged. "I mean, it was at the back of my car, of all places. And we took an Uber, we had been drinking and I just told her goodbye, you know. I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol. It’s... ugh... it’s complicated."

He shook his head, rubbing at his temples, as if trying to piece together the puzzle of a night that made far too much sense at the time but now felt like chaos crystallized.

"It really isn’t. You either want to be with her or you don’t."

"Since when are you the emotionally balanced one." Joey rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his Rose and smirking. "Since when, huh?"

"Since Ivy." Winn shrugged. "I still worry though. I worry that Tom is going to push me and I will do something I cannot come back from. And then she will be alone but at least she and Elizabeth will be safe."

"It’s gonna be fine, Winn. Just tell me when you need me."

He met Joey’s gaze and allowed himself a small smile.

"Thank you, Joey. And I know you do not want to hear this but, I am truly sorry about Diane." He said.

He avoided Joey’s eyes at first, staring down at the condensation forming on his glass, thinking about all the things he hadn’t said, the guilt that lingered.

"It’s not your fault. I was mad at the wrong person. But Tom is going to pay." Joey said.

Tom deserved everything coming his way, and Joey’s tone left no doubt: he was ready to be part of the storm.

"I will keep saying this, Joey. Be careful."

Joey was about to make a joke when there was a tap on the booth shield and an attendant came in.

"Sir?" the attendant called.

Winn’s head snapped to the man, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Problem?" Winn asked.

"A lady says she saw you come in and would like to see you in her booth?"

Winn’s eyebrows shot up, lips pressing into a line as the words registered. The idea of being approached in a place like this had Winn’s blood simmering.

"Tell the lady to fuck off." Winn snapped.

"She says forty thousand dollars for a lap dance."

Time seemed to slow. Winn froze mid-thought, fingers tightening slightly around his glass. Forty thousand? The words repeated in his head, the absurdity, the sheer audacity.

First Winn was about to serve the attendant his own head on a plate. He stopped for a minute, watching the amusement on Joey’s face.

Winn shook his head slowly, tension giving way to incredulous laughter.

"What the fuck?!" Winn chuckled.

"What?" Joey asked.

Winn got to his feet, clapped his friend on the shoulder. "Good night, my friend. My services are needed."

He didn’t need to elaborate; Joey understood. Joey rolled his eyes. "You guys are weird."

He watched Winn stride toward the attendant.

Winn followed the attendant a couple of private booths from his and entered to find Ivy.

The booth was plush, leather cushions dark against the low light. A single spotlight accentuated Ivy’s figure, her posture relaxed. She sat on the sofa, legs crossed elegantly.

"Forty thousand? Really? Forty thousand for a Winn Kane lap dance?"

He took a slow step forward. His eyes never left hers, tracing the familiar lines of her face—the curve of her jaw, the set of her shoulders, the small tilt of her head that made his chest tighten.

Ivy laughed. "Should be free. You did say you wanted to see me."

She shifted slightly, adjusting her posture in a playful challenge.

"I must say. Nice location."

Ivy shifted on the sofa as he slid in beside her, his arms coming around her shoulders.

Her body leaned into him slightly, and Winn felt the heat of her proximity, the quickened rhythm of his heartbeat.

"You said you were going to be here so I thought to surprise you." Ivy said.

His eyes met hers, the intensity unspoken but deafening in its clarity. "I am quite surprised and happy."

He leaned in, brushing his lips briefly against hers.

"So how about that lap dance, uhn?" she winked at him.

Her boldness, the casual power in her voice, made Winn grin despite himself.

"You’re not paying nearly enough."

Before she could respond, he pulled her closer, seating her on his lap. Her thighs pressed against him, her dress riding up just enough to send a jolt of heat through both of them. Her laughter mingled with the bass of the club, a melody he didn’t want to stop, as they settled into the closeness they’d been craving for too long.

Around them, the world could wait—here, now, nothing else existed but the heat, the tension, and the undeniable pull between them.

"Greedy." Ivy teased. Her fingers toyed with the edge of his shirt, eyes glinting with mischief. She was bold, fearless, and intoxicating—a storm he wanted to be lost in.

"Am I?" He leaned closer, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear, and the warmth of her skin sent a thrill through him.