(Posting this now to clarify a few things. It has already been addressed but trapped in the privilege Chapters.

1. Winn is still in the dark.

2. Sylvia has given Evans all the information he needs, he is still looking for proof. Of course, he wants to go the legal way.

3. Sylvia doesn’t know Sharona handled Ivy’s disappearance. Everyone is only looking at Tom.

4. Sharona took advantage of the assault situation and blackmailed Winn into staying married.

5. Ivy doesn’t hate Winn. She just can’t forgive him for leaving her behind so quickly plus being with him and executing her revenge plans against Tom (his father) would be conflicting.

6. Any questions you have, please drop in this Chapter and I will answer them all. Even though they have already been addressed in the privilege Chapters.)

NB: Sylvia and Mary are keeping Elizabeth safe while Trish is currently undercover. All hands are on deck.

He looked devastating. His eyes locked on hers. She matched his gaze with a plastic smile.

"Mr. Kane," she said sweetly. "I was going to come to you as soon as I was done with these wonderful gentlemen."

"Were you? You were just going to walk up to me, like what? My ex-secretary? Or my ex-fiancée?"

Her pulse tripped. Winn’s words were a challenge, a reminder of everything that burned between them. Ivy wanted to tell him to behave, to remind him they were surrounded by investors. Instead, she did what she thought was the subtle, mature thing: she moved a hand behind him, meaning to lightly pat his back. A silent nudge that said, shut up.

Except her hand landed lower. Much lower.

A firm, unmistakably muscular surface met her palm—and before she could react, her fingers had already completed the accidental crime.

Winn stiffened, let out a low grunt, and turned toward her. "You just smacked my butt."

Heat exploded in her cheeks. "I—it was an accident! I was trying to get you to shut up."

"You wanted to shut me up by spanking my butt?" Winn’s eyes glittered. The look in them was dangerous and absurdly intimate.

"Mr. Kane..." she began, cheeks flaming despite the powder and the dozen professional hands that had made her presentable for tonight. "I apologize, but this is a public event, and whatever the issue between us is, we have to maintain a unified front."

Bernard caught the tension and tossed a glance at Wilhelm and Simon. "Oh, this should be fun," he said. Ivy flashed them a thin, apologetic smile.

"If you will excuse me, gentlemen, I’ll go grab a drink," she offered. She needed clarity, a rationale, anything that would anchor her.

She had one target in the whole world now, and she had sharpened herself on it: Tom Kane. She’d sworn, in a private silence to dismantle the man who’d stolen her future, to strip him of status, comfort, and the quiet entitlement that let him sleep at night. She would take away everything important to him. His pride. His company. His money. The people who fed him power.

The champagne was a bright, cold note against her palm, its tiny bubbles marching up. She tilted the glass to her lips.

And then he was there—like a bad penny that wouldn’t stay lost. Tom Kane stepped up beside her at the champagne tower.

She felt the hair on her arms lift. "Miss Morales," he said, the name pronounced with the casual condescension of a man who believed he’d never be held accountable. "What a surprise to find you here—working with Everest now? Splendid."

"Mr. Kane," she said slowly. "Good evening." She kept her flute steady.

"Long time no see," Tom said. He moved as if he owned the air around them.

"You are just the man I want to see," Ivy said. She met his smile with one of her own. "You look sharp. Filling your stomach with the blood of innocent, young girls, I presume." Around them the party continued.

Tom’s laugh was placid at first. "I thought I’d never see you again," he said.

"I’m like a rash," Ivy replied. "Never truly gone." The line had been drawn. She’d spent the last months turning grief into a plan.

Tom looked toward the cameras, then back to Ivy. "Are we really going to do this dance all over again? Me threatening you to stay away from my son?"

Ivy’s smile thinned and sharpened. "No," she said. "I will be the one doing the threatening. Actually, it’s not really a threat if it’s what I will do," she continued. "So, let’s call it a fact. You are done, Mr. Kane."

Tom tried to maintain his smile. Ivy’s words had cracked him, and she saw it, savored it. That flicker in his expression was worth every sleepless night she’d spent plotting, every tear she’d swallowed in silence. She turned away. She felt a strange calm wash through her. She hadn’t even begun yet, and already, the mighty Tom Kane looked ready to crumble.

Well... maybe that wasn’t true. She had begun.

Just then, the echo of Joey’s voice boomed through the speakers, cutting through the hum of the crowd and the pulse of Ivy’s adrenaline.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "and now for the moment we have all been waiting for. Today, we dig into the ground to mark the beginning of construction for Kane’s Designer Mall—a project that symbolizes vision, collaboration, and innovation!"

The crowd responded with polite applause and the flash of cameras. The moon reflected off the cars lined at the periphery. Ivy forced herself to breathe. She could feel eyes on her—hundreds of them—and she knew most of those eyes belonged to people who had read about her. The runaway bride.

Joey continued, "I’d like to invite the two companies spearheading this project. Mr. Winn Kane, on behalf of House of Kane"—the crowd cheered, a low ripple of excitement moving through the press line—"and Miss Ivy Morales, on behalf of Everest." The applause was polite. Everyone knew what this meant. Kane and Morales, together again.

Winn moved first. He adjusted his cufflinks as he approached the ceremonial dig site. He was immaculate. She could see the strain in the corners of his mouth, the tightness in his shoulders. Beneath that tailored composure was a storm.

When she joined him, the air changed. They hadn’t been this close in over a year.

The press surged forward for a better angle. Whispers floated in the warm air.

"Is that really her?"

"She looks incredible..."

"Do you think they’ll talk after this?"

"Former lovers, now business partners. God, this is gold."

Joey stepped closer and lowered his voice just enough for them to hear. "You both can dig at the same time. Just one dig is enough."

"Thank you, Joey," Ivy whispered back. She took the decorated gold shovel from his hand. Dust swirled at her feet. Her blonde hair glowed. She tightened her grip on the shovel.

*

Please, see author’s note: