"I know," Irene said softly.

Just then, the door creaked open, and Evans—appeared, his presence filling the entryway. The moment she saw him, all her restraint broke. Ivy rushed forward, burying herself against his chest.

He stroked her hair, big hand gentle against her skull, murmuring, "You’re fine, love. You’re fine."

"I can’t do this! I’m sorry!"

"Anything you want, love," he said. "Just sleep on it, okay? You’re going to be fine."

Irene came up beside them then. She reached out, her hand sliding down Ivy’s arms in a reassuring squeeze. "Come on in," she urged gently. "I’ll make you tea before we leave. Chamomile. with honey."

The three of them moved toward the house together.

Evans lingered at the doorway, his hands tucked into his pockets, watching them go. The faint hum of his phone vibrating in his pocket pulled him back into reality, and with it came the inevitable thought: Winn Kane. The man’s temper was legend.

There would be a reckoning soon; of that, he was certain.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just wait till Monday, you son of a bitch," he muttered to himself. "Don’t bring your hurricane around my family."

*****

Winn did wait until Monday—but by then, the fight had already drained out of him. His temper had cooled, but the ache in his chest was constant, sharp as a blade under his ribs. He didn’t want to fight anymore.

He just wanted to understand. To see her. To know why. That was what drove him up the steps of the Everest corporate tower. The only person who could give him answers—or lead him to her—was Evans.

The media hadn’t stopped buzzing since the groundbreaking ceremony. The tabloids had gone feral. The internet had devoured clips of him standing behind her, his body pressed against hers while they dug into the earth together.

Every woman online had opinions about the look in his eyes, the tension in his jaw, and the visible evidence of just how "thrilled" he’d been to see his ex.

And through it all, his wife, Sharona, had been calling him nonstop since Saturday night. Every hour. Every goddamn hour. He hadn’t picked up once.

He was supposed to be at the construction site this morning. Instead, here he was with his heart hanging out. The moment he entered the lobby, heads turned. He wasn’t just any man walking in—he was Winn Kane, millionaire, scandal magnet.

"Mr. Kane!" Evans’ secretary called out sharply, springing up from her desk as soon as she saw him barreling past. "You cannot just go in there!"

Winn didn’t bother to answer. He didn’t even look at her. He pushed the door open and stepped into Evans’ office.

Evans was standing by the window. He turned slowly and simply assessed Winn. Then, with a flick of his hand, he signaled to his secretary to leave them. The door shut softly behind Winn, sealing the two men into an office thick with quiet tension.

Evans crossed his arms. "Well," he said dryly, "if it isn’t the storm I was expecting."

Winn’s chest rose and fell once before he spoke. "What did I ever do to you?"

The question was wounded. He looked broken.

Evans was taken aback by the defeat in his frame. Winn Kane was known for his temper—an inferno but today, there was no fire. Only ash. His shoulders slumped. His usually sharp eyes were dull, glazed with exhaustion.

"I..." Evans began, unsure if he should speak or brace for the verbal storm.

"First with Irene," Winn said, "then sabotaging my business through the years, and now with Ivy. What did I do to you, Evans?"

Evans raised both hands. "Winn, you don’t understand."

"Oh, I understand plenty. Is she your side chick? Someone you fuck when you get bored with your wife at home? Tell me, Evans."

"What the fuck? That’s... that’s disgusting!" Evans snapped. "You’ve lost it. You’ve absolutely lost it."

"I am used to people hurting me," he said. But this—" He took a step back, pacing. "This is low, Evans. Even for you."

Evans stared at him, guilt crawling up his throat. "Winn..." He sighed heavily. "She’s my niece."

Winn blinked. "What?"

"Yes," Evans said quietly, leaning on the edge of his desk. "My niece."

"So she’s been working for you all this time..." He exhaled shakily, dragging a hand through his hair.

"But I still don’t believe for one minute that what we had meant nothing. She couldn’t have faked that, Evans." He cut himself off, biting the inside of his cheek.

Evans swallowed, his throat dry. "No, she didn’t. She’s not that kind of girl."

"Then what the hell is going on?"

Evans took a deep breath. "Winn, I would love to explain everything to you. Lord knows we’ve reached the point where our differences don’t matter anymore. But Ivy has to explain it all to you herself. I cannot, at least not without her permission."

Winn stared at him.

"But what I can tell you," Evans continued carefully, "is that she is my niece—and I only just recently found out my sister, her mother. The rest, Ivy has to tell you herself."

"Where is she?" Winn asked.

"She’s at the mall site," Evans said quietly, hands clasped before him. "She’ll be working with you on behalf of Everest. Her mother transferred her stake in the company to her." His gaze softened, the corners of his eyes creasing with a fatherly kind of worry.

"And Winn, please... be easy with her. She’s been through a lot."

Winn’s dark brows knit together just slightly. He just stared at him—searching, measuring. There was still doubt flickering in his eyes. Finally, he gave a single nod.

Evans exhaled in quiet relief as Winn turned and strode out. Evans rubbed the bridge of his nose. "God help them both," he muttered.

*****

Ivy had her helmet on, a white shirt tucked neatly into slim-fitting khaki trousers. Her hair was tied up in a practical bun.

The construction site buzzed with activity—machines groaning, metal clanging, workers shouting instructions over the hum of generators. Dust rose in the air.