"My point is, Miss Kane," Reese continued, "if you keep pushing it, I will break you."

"I...I don’t understand," she whispered.

Reese smiled faintly, He was about to say something else when his phone buzzed violently in his pocket.

He frowned, pulled it out, and the blood drained from his face. One message. "911."

He shot to his feet. The sudden movement startled Sylvia, who reached out instinctively. "What’s wrong?" she asked, eyes wide.

Reese’s pulse hammered in his ears as he dialled the driver who had taken over Winn’s schedule ever since Reese had been reassigned to watch Sylvia.

"Reese, what’s going on?" Panic had stripped away Sylvia’s usual sass.

The driver picked up on the second ring. "Where is Mr. Kane?... Go up there now! Get him out of there now! I’m on my way!" He ended the call before the driver could respond and shoved the phone into his pocket, already halfway down the steps.

"Reese! For fuck’s sake, what is happening?!" Sylvia shouted, hurrying after him. The panic in her voice scraped against his nerves, but he didn’t slow down. He couldn’t afford to.

"I don’t know," he snapped, rounding the side of the house. "Just a 911 message from Mr. Kane."

Sylvia caught up beside him, breathless. "Where is he?"

"He’s at Sharona’s," Reese said grimly, reaching the car. He didn’t wait for her response, unlocking the door with a sharp click.

"I’m coming with you!"

"Miss Kane—" he began, his hand already on the driver’s door.

"Don’t you even try!" she cut him off, eyes narrowed. "You’ll waste more time arguing than driving."

Reese groaned under his breath, but she wasn’t wrong. "Fine!" he growled, swinging the door open. "Fasten your seatbelt." The tires screamed against the gravel as they tore down the driveway.

*****

Winn’s world blurred at the edges. His eyes swam. The room seemed to tilt and breathe with him—the soft glow of Sharona’s chandelier throwing warm gold across her robe as she stood, untying it.

"You look so tense," she purred. "Why don’t you just let go, Winn?"

Winn’s pulse pounded in his ears. Every nerve in his body screamed for control he no longer had. And then—desperation hit him. He closed his eyes, forcing his mind to a safer place, a face that grounded him. Ivy.

He pictured Ivy. In his mind, she was there now, standing in Sharona’s place. The lines of her body soft and familiar, her touch tender. "Why did you leave?" he whispered.

Sharona paused, confusion flickering in her eyes. "What did you say?"

But Winn wasn’t looking at her anymore. His gaze had gone somewhere she could never reach—somewhere sacred.

"Come back to me," he murmured faintly.

Sharona knew exactly what was happening—he wasn’t seeing her. He was seeing Ivy. That pathetic ghost of a woman who haunted every decision Winn made. Sharona’s smile tightened, but her mind worked fast. If he wanted Ivy, she’d give him Ivy.

At least long enough to get what she wanted.

She slid closer to him. "Hey, babe," she murmured, mimicking the sweetness she’d seen in Ivy. "I had to. But I’m here now, and we need a baby, love. I need you to make love to me. Show me how much you missed me."

Winn’s gaze flickered—still cloudy, still far—but her touch drew a low groan from deep in his chest. His breathing slowed. "Come here..." he murmured, his hand reaching toward her in a daze.

Sharona’s lips curved into a triumphant smirk. She climbed over him, straddling his lap as her body pressed against his. His chest was bare now, warm and tense beneath her palms.

She leaned in, lips hovering over his jaw. Winn’s hands trembled against her waist out of struggle—the battle between mind and body that he was rapidly losing. His fingers brushed against her thigh, the sensation making Sharona sigh dramatically.

Winn swallowed hard. Some part of him knew none of this was right—but his body refused to listen. He moved slowly, tugging the straps of her bra down, his lips grazing her shoulder. The world around him pulsed with heat.

A thunderous bang! jolted through the room, followed by another, and another. "Mr. Kane!" a deep voice shouted from behind the door. "Mr. Kane, are you alright?"

Sharona froze mid-motion, her body going rigid. Her eyes darted toward the door, fury sparking behind them. "Shit!" she hissed, leaping off Winn’s lap. The drug was still in his system—he was weak, dazed and horny—but the intrusion had ruined everything.

She grabbed her robe from the floor, yanked it over her shoulders and tied the belt tight.

The banging continued. "Mr. Kane!" the voice called again.

"What do you want?!" Sharona snapped, storming toward the door.

From the other side, the driver’s voice came. "I got a message from my boss. I have instructions to get Mr. Kane out of here now."

Sharona’s eyes narrowed, her heart racing. "Who the fuck is your boss?" she demanded.

"Mr. Dalton."

Reese Dalton. Of course. That overprotective hound who followed Winn everywhere. Her lips pressed into a hard line. "You’ve got to be kidding me," she muttered under her breath.

Winn laughed weakly from where he lay slumped on the sofa. "Reese, my man..." He tried to push himself upright, but his arms buckled under his weight, and he sank back into the cushions.

"Miss Priestley, I advise you open the door now," the driver ordered.

Sharona huffed dramatically, folding her arms and rolling her eyes. "Fine! Fine!!" she said in exasperation, and with an exaggerated sigh, she strode to the door and threw it open.

The driver stepped in cautiously, his gaze sweeping the room before landing on Winn. The sight made him frown. "See!" Sharona gestured toward the couch, voice sugar-sweet but dripping with false innocence.

"He’s fine. Just a little tipsy. The man’s been under too much pressure lately."

The driver didn’t look convinced. His jaw tightened. "I have to follow instructions, ma’am. I’m sorry."