Undressed By His Arrogance-Chapter 320: You Know Who This Is?

When Anna’s phone rang, she jumped violently, her heart slamming into her ribs. Everyone froze. They had all been waiting for this. Dreading it at the same time.

Anna’s fingers trembled as she picked up the call, breath shallow, eyes wide.

She put the phone on speaker.

"You know who this is?" Raphael’s voice came through.

"Raphael," Anna answered.

"Well," he continued lightly, as if discussing a missed meeting, "your husband ruined my life. And now you have to pay."

"Please," Anna whispered, pressing her free hand to her chest as if she could physically hold her heart together. "Please just tell me what you want..."

"Ten million dollars in cash," he said, "and the Orchard private jet. You have three hours."

"He doesn’t have three hours!" she cried, tears spilling freely now. "My son is dying. Please—"

"Actually," Raphael interrupted, unfazed, "he has four hours. I’ll call you in one hour with the address. Deal?"

No one spoke. No one breathed.

Without waiting for a response, the line went dead.

Anna stared at the phone.

"I’m guessing you have the funds." Sam was the first to speak up.

Anna swallowed hard. "I... I do. Of course I can afford it." She dragged a trembling hand down her face. "But I moved everything into Winn’s account. Every cent. Pending a finance manager, pending the divorce." Her eyes filled again. "It’ll take more than three hours to get a judge to sign off on power of attorney to access it."

There it was—the cruel irony. She had done the right thing, the protective thing, and now time was punishing her for it.

Sam turned his head sharply toward Evans.

"On it," Evans said immediately, already pulling out his phone as he strode away, suit jacket flaring behind him.

"We’ve got this," Sam said firmly, turning back to Anna.

"Thank you," Anna whispered. "I’ll give it back."

"Nonsense," Sam scoffed. "This is family."

He turned toward Irene next. "Is she picking up?"

Irene shook her head, worry etched into her features. "No calls. Just a text. She says she’s fine."

Sam exhaled slowly, the breath heavy with things unsaid. "Let her know he’s out of the coma but still unconscious," he said after a moment. "That should calm her a bit... I guess." He looked away as he spoke, staring down the corridor. She’s going to be fine. She’s a big girl. She can handle herself. He repeated it in his head.

With a grunt, Sam began walking down the corridor, cane tapping softly against the floor. The VIP wing was quieter. Winn had been moved there for security.

Sam paused outside the door before entering.

Then he stepped inside.

Winn lay there, pale and frighteningly still, machines doing the work his body couldn’t. Tubes, wires, a soft mechanical rhythm. The boy—no, the man—who had once filled rooms with arrogance now looked breakable.

Sam moved closer, resting his hand on the bed rail. His throat tightened.

He pulled a chair close to the bed and lowered himself into it with a grunt. Sam stared at him for a long moment, jaw tight, eyes shining.

Then he lifted the cane and smacked Winn’s leg, hard.

"You’re an idiot," Sam snapped. "A world-class, award-winning idiot." He leaned forward, pointing the cane accusingly. "You’ve still got too much to learn, you fool. Rule number one: a man with enemies does not eat or drink outside his own house. Ever." Another tap of the cane, punctuating the lesson. "Paranoia keeps you alive."

He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. "You’ve got my baby out there losing her damn mind," he continued. "I wanted her to embrace her strength, but God, I feel helpless doing nothing, its choking me."

Sam stood then. "And let me tell you something," he growled, leaning closer to Winn’s face. "If you die and she breaks, I’m coming after your ass in hell. I will squeeze your balls so hard you’ll scream like a bitch making even the demons nervous. You’ll become the second Jesus just trying to escape me."

He straightened, shaking his head. "Idiot," he muttered again.

And then—

Winn’s fingers twitched.

Sam froze.

The world narrowed to that one small movement. He leaned in, eyes sharp despite his age, watching as the fingers twitched again, sluggish, uncoordinated.

Slowly—painfully slowly—Winn’s hand shifted. One finger lifted.

And flipped him off.

Sam stared at it for half a second before a bark of laughter tore out of him. "Asshole," he said fondly. He reached out and patted Winn’s shoulder.

*****

Ivy descended the hidden staircase of Commissioned. This was where deals were made that never saw daylight, where people vanished and reappeared richer, poorer, or not at all.

Her heart pounded, but her spine stayed straight.

Two of Luca’s minions stepped into her path. One lifted a hand. "This area’s restricted."

"I’m here to see Luca," Ivy said.

The men looked her up and down with lazy amusement. One of them laughed openly, a short ugly sound. "Turn around, skirt," he sneered, making a shooing motion with his hand.

Ivy turned her head slightly, just enough to catch Reese in her peripheral vision. He stood behind her. Their eyes met. He gave a single nod. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

That was all the permission she needed.

What happened next was over in seconds.

Reese moved like violence had been waiting patiently inside him all night. One guard went down before his laugh fully faded, Reese’s elbow connecting with his throat. The second barely had time to reach for his weapon before Reese pivoted, slammed his head into the wall, and let gravity do the rest.

Two bodies hit the floor almost simultaneously, unconscious, breathing, irrelevant.

Ivy stepped over them and pushed open Luca’s office door.

Cigarette smoke hung thick in the air. The moment she crossed the threshold, half a dozen men snapped their guns up, muzzles trained squarely on her chest.

Reese stepped in behind her, cracking his neck once, flexing his fingers.

"Easy," a smooth voice drawled.