Undressed By His Arrogance

"You protect your child fiercely," Sam continued, his eyes unwavering. "And when someone hurts them—even a little bit—you rain hell down on them." He paused, letting the silence do the damage. "You want to make things right?"

Anna swallowed.

"Rain hell down on Tom," Sam said simply. "It is simple."

Anna sank further into the chair, as if gravity itself had turned against her. He was right. Horrifyingly, undeniably right. Her mind raced backward through years of compromise.

All Tom had ever wanted from her was her money.

And she had handed it over.

Her lips pressed together.

It was time to take it all back.

Every cent.

She stood abruptly, resolve straightening her spine. "Sam... thank you very much."

He looked up at her, assessing again.

"You got a plan?"

"Not necessarily. I just have to get to the bank," Anna said.

Sam’s eyes flickered with sharp amusement. A slow, approving smile spread across his face. "Atta girl," he said. "And I wouldn’t worry too much about Winn and Ivy. They’re stubborn creatures. They will break each other, then stitch themselves back together stronger for it."

She nodded once, a silent thank you, then turned and walked out of the house.

As she slid into the car, a laugh bubbled up from her chest, startling even herself. Screw Hawaii. Screw beaches and cocktails and pretending she deserved rest. She wasn’t going anywhere.

She was going to cut the bastard’s legs off.

*****

Joey waited in the Emperor’s Room.

He had gotten the call the previous night—the call they had all been waiting for. The plan was finally moving. Tom Kane was cracking, just as predicted.

Joey checked his watch, then leaned back, folding his arms.

Tom Kane strode in. His suit was immaculate, his hair perfectly styled, but the cracks were there if you knew where to look—the tightness around his eyes, the restless energy in his movements.

"Mr. Kane," Joey said evenly. "This is getting ridiculous. I don’t know what you want with me. I told you, I want nothing to do with your family."

Tom dropped into the chair opposite Joey, leaning forward, palms flat on the table. "Listen to me," he said. "I need your help."

Joey arched a brow, unimpressed.

"I’m sure you’ve heard the news going around about Sharona," Tom continued quickly. "I had nothing to do with it. Nothing. I swear on my daughter’s grave."

"It means nothing to me, Mr. Kane," Joey said calmly.

"Winn did this," Tom snapped, anger finally breaking through the polish. "Winn is framing me." His hands clenched into fists on the tabletop. "This whole thing reeks of him."

Joey raised a brow slowly. "Again, Mr. Kane..." he began.

But Tom barreled right through it, words tumbling out faster now, slick with panic. "All I want you to do is help me get rid of Winn. That’s it." He leaned forward, eyes sharp with a dangerous gleam. "And House of Kane will finally be yours."

Joey allowed a thoughtful hum to escape him, purely for show. Inside, his mind was already cataloguing every lie, every emotional hook Tom was trying to sink into him.

Tom mistook the pause for encouragement.

"You’ve put your blood and sweat into that company," Tom pressed on smoothly, sensing momentum. "You helped build it from the ground up. Sacrifices no one ever thanked you for. And now that it’s beginning to soar, you’re just supposed to hand it all over to Winn?"

"You can take over," Tom said. "You should take over. Avenge your wife, Joey. What would she want? What do you think she’d ask you to do right now, with this opportunity I’m presenting?"

"Go on,"

Tom exhaled, visibly recalibrating. "I don’t have a plan yet," he admitted. "But I will. I always do." His confidence wobbled but didn’t collapse. "In the meantime, I need you to apologize to Winn. Get things back to the way they were before."

"That’s not happening," Joey said flatly, cutting through Tom’s momentum.

"Listen," Tom said, leaning forward again. "I need someone Winn trusts. Someone who has access to him. Someone who can get close without raising alarms."

"Try Reese."

Tom stared at him, incredulously. "Are you listening to yourself?" he asked.

"Look, Mr. Kane," Joey said, softening just enough to keep the game alive. "I’ll see what I can do. I make no promises."

"Fine." Tom lifted a hand, signaling to the attendant lingering nearby, and passed over his card. "Put his drink on this."

"Tell me something," Tom said casually. "Do you have any idea how Sharona escaped from holding in the first place?"

"No," Joey said. "You really think Winn is capable of doing something like that?"

"I think Sylvia’s death broke him. And he blames me. Which is why I still believe he helped with the murder of your wife."

"And I still think," Tom continued, pressing, "you need to steer that investigation in Winn’s direction. The detectives aren’t even looking his way. Do you really think Sylvia could have pulled that off by herself?"

"I’ll look into it myself." He met Tom’s gaze. "And if you have any information that can help the detectives, you should tell me."

The attendant returned. He cleared his throat politely, eyes flicking between the two men.

"Mr. Kane, I’m afraid your card has been declined."

"Are you crazy?" Tom snapped. "What—what do you mean declined? Try it again. It must be network issues."

"I did," the attendant replied calmly. "Three times."

"How is this even possible?" Tom barked, already pulling out his phone. His fingers trembled as he logged into his bank app, confidence bleeding away with every second the screen loaded. "What the—"

Joey tilted his head, curiosity perfectly feigned. "Everything okay, Mr. Kane?" he asked mildly, sliding his own card across the table to the attendant.

Tom didn’t answer. He stared at his phone. His breath came shallow now, eyes darting, recalculating.

"Uhm... uh... nothing," Tom muttered finally, snapping the phone dark. He shoved it into his pocket and stood abruptly. "I’ll see you later."