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He left before she could respond. Sylvia stood frozen for a second, the room still buzzing with whispered reactions. Her pulse was pounding in her ears. She looked from her mother’s shattered expression to Tom’s red, trembling face.
"Well," she said bitterly, "there you have it. Screwed up our lives. You happy now?"
Sylvia grabbed her purse and rose to her feet. As she reached the door, she noticed Winn had left his jacket on the chair. She picked it up, pressing it briefly to her face before hurrying out the door.
But by the time she made it outside, Winn was already gone.
Cars sped by along Park Avenue, horns blaring, the hum of the city unbothered by the implosion of her family. Reese was standing beside the car parked at the curb.
His sunglasses hid his expression, "Are you ready to leave, Miss Kane?"
Sylvia turned toward him, still dazed. "Uh... yeah," she murmured, clutching Winn’s jacket close to her chest. "Yeah, sure. Just take me home."
Reese opened the door for her, but just as she was about to slide in, she felt something buzz against her ribs. The vibration startled her, and she looked down—Winn’s phone, tucked into the inside pocket of the jacket, was lighting up with a call.
"Shit," she whispered, fishing it out.
She hesitated for only a second before answering. "Hello?"
But she didn’t even get a word out before a furious voice exploded through the speaker.
"You got married? You son of a bitch! Do you have any idea what Ivy has been through because of you pompous, selfish fool? Poor girl has been fighting for her life and you— you got fucking married?! You knock her up and get married! Are you insane?"
Sylvia froze, the phone still pressed to her ear.
Her fingers trembled. "Who is this?" she demanded. "Where is Ivy?"
A pause. Then, a low curse. "Fuck!" The line went dead.
Sylvia stared at the phone, feeling the world tilt slightly off its axis.
"Oh, God," she whispered, shaking her head, strands of hair falling from the bun at her nape.
Reese straightened. "Ma’am?"
Sylvia turned to him. "Reese, how fast can you find out who a number belongs to?"
"Thirty minutes."
She exhaled, a shaky smile breaking through. "You’re an angel. I’ll send you a number. And please, do not tell my brother. I promise you—this is for his own good."
"Understood, Miss Kane."
She nodded and slipped into the back seat. Her heart raced as the car pulled away.
*****
At the Kane estate, Anna stood in the middle of the grand living room, her posture trembling between fury and collapse.
"I want a divorce," she said suddenly.
Tom chuckled. "You want a divorce?" he repeated. "You want to divorce me? On what grounds?"
Anna stared at him, her jaw tightening. She’d once thought his confidence was charm— now she saw it for what it was: arrogance built on lies and cowardice.
"On the grounds that I’ve wasted half my life pretending not to see what you are," she snapped. "A liar. A cheat. A cruel, selfish bastard!"
"You really are a spoiled Orchard princess, aren’t you?" Tom’s eyes burned with rage.
"You went thirty-eight years without telling me Winn wasn’t my son! You let me raise him as mine! And now—because you find out I have another family—you want a divorce?" He slammed his fist against the wall. "Sweetheart, you ain’t getting it!"
Anna flinched but didn’t step back. "I cannot live like this," she whispered.
Tom laughed—a harsh, humorless bark. "Learn to. I lived with it! You want a divorce on grounds of cheating so I don’t get anything because of that damned prenup your father made me sign? You think you’re smart, huh?"
Anna blinked back tears, but her gaze was steady now. "Yes, I cheated once," she said.
"Because soon after our marriage, you were constantly cruel to me. You made me feel like a mistake you couldn’t wait to erase. I thought... I thought you didn’t want me."
Her hands trembled as she clasped them together, a tiny gesture of self-defense. "It was once, Tom. Once. You have consistently cheated on me for years. You have three children, Tom!"
He smirked, stepping closer. "Live with it," he snarled, his hand brushing her chin just hard enough to make her flinch. "You always were good at pretending. Pretend some more."
He turned sharply, muttering a curse, and stalked toward his study.
Anna stood there, frozen in the middle of the hallway. She exhaled shakily. Her knees threatened to give out, but she steadied herself.
Inside the study, Tom poured a drink. He leaned against the desk. He clenched his jaw, muttering under his breath.
If the bitch thought she could leave him now, she had another thing coming.
He took a long sip of his drink. In his mind, he could already see his next move.
"Stupid Raphael!" Tom bellowed. The glass trembled in his hand. "Useless, spineless, good-for-nothing idiot!"
He threw the glass at the wall and it shattered with a violent crack. Whiskey streaked down the wallpaper.
He had half a mind to drive over to Maurice’s office and wring the life out of Raphael himself. What was the point of getting that boy the job as Maurice’s assistant if he couldn’t even warn him about the video? He was supposed to be Tom’s eyes and ears.
Raphael should have known—should have told him there was a recording.
Now, the whole family knew. The bastard boy, the fraud of a son, and the damn wife who was now talking about divorce.
Tom dragged a hand through his hair, pacing. "The stupid fool," he muttered again, the veins on his temple pulsing.
He poured himself another drink, and threw it back in one burning gulp. It didn’t help. Nothing did. The silence of the study mocked him.
*****
Reese knocked gently on the door.
The door flew open almost instantly. Sylvia stood there, barefoot, wearing one of Winn’s oversized shirts that hung halfway down her thighs. Her hair was a wild halo around her head, her eyes bright and feverish.
"Did you find out?" she asked breathlessly.
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