CHAPTER 109: ISN’T THAT MR EVEREST?

The moment their eyes met, his chest tightened. Old memories. Old sins. All resurfacing right here with his fiancée next to him.

"Isn’t that Mr Everest?" Ivy asked, breaking his trance.

"Mmm...mmm," he replied absently, but his eyes weren’t on Evans — they were locked on Irene.

"Hey! Winn!" Evans called out. "I thought you were off in the Bahamas or something."

"Hi, Winn." Irene’s voice was soft. "I didn’t know you would be here, I promise." Her eyes darted nervously toward Evans, then back to Winn. "We can leave if you want."

"Nonsense," Evans cut in. "How can I miss the opportunity to meet your lovely fiancée?" He stepped forward, taking Ivy’s hand before Winn could protest. "Miss Morales, right?"

Ivy nodded, her polite smile barely masking her discomfort. "Good evening, Mr Everest. Mrs Everest, I presume?"

Irene gave a small, composed smile. "Yes, but please, call me Irene." For all her grace, she was uneasy — and that only confirmed what he already suspected. His father had orchestrated this entire dinner to get under his skin.

"Of course," Ivy replied warmly, returning the smile with her usual gentle sincerity.

"And where is your father?" Winn asked, forcing a measured tone as he straightened his jacket.

"He should be here..." Irene turned slightly, glancing toward the driveway. Her hair shifted with her movement. Then, as if on cue, the sound of tires crunching over gravel filled the silence. "Ah, there he is now."

"Please, head inside and make yourselves comfortable." He gestured toward the grand entryway.

"Sure thing, man." Evans’ grin was too broad. He adjusted his cufflinks and turned to Ivy. "Miss Morales, how about I get to know you better, uhn? I hear you were Winn’s secretary."

Ivy offered a polite smile. "I still am," she replied. "And we have met once before, Mr. Everest."

"Ah yes, now I remember. Although, truth be told, I had a lot on my mind that day with the investors blowing me off for Winn, you know how the business world is." He smirked.

Winn stood back as he watched her walk into the house with Irene and Evans.

Once they were out of sight, the weight of his father’s manipulations pressed in again. He lingered for a moment.

Finally, he exhaled and turned toward the west wing to his father’s study. He pushed the door open and stepped in, the force of his irritation carrying him forward.

His father looked up from his desk.

"What is the meaning of this?" Winn demanded.

"Excuse me? You forget who you’re talking to?"

"You invited Irene to dinner?"

His father leaned back in his chair, a slow smirk forming. "I invited guests, Winn. I didn’t realize you were so... easily rattled by old acquaintances."

"Don’t play games with me," Winn snapped, stepping closer. "You know exactly what you’re doing. You set this up. Why?"

"Yes." Tom said. "I needed to remind you how far in the bottom you’re scraping." He lifted his right hand, palm up.

"Irene," he said with a deliberate pause, his lips curling. "Classy. Career-driven. PhD. Comes from wealth. Can help your business. Refined, cultured, beautiful." He tilted his head, a smug smirk cutting through his carefully composed face. "And then—" he raised his other hand, dramatically lower. "Ivy..."

He let her name hang in the air, tainted by disdain. "Help me out here, Winn. I got nothing."

"She makes me happy," Winn said finally. His gaze locked on Tom’s, neither flinching nor softening.

Tom threw his head back and laughed — a deep, cynical sound that carried no mirth. "Happy?" He scoffed as if the word were an insult. "Winn, a woman can be everything and still make you happy. That’s the point — you don’t have to choose one or the other."

"Like mother makes you happy?" Winn cut in, venom laced in calm. "My mum? Classy, career-driven, PhD, comes from wealth, helped your business..." He leaned forward, resting both hands on the edge of the desk. His eyes were fierce. "And yet..."

A frown split Tom’s face.

"The relationship between your mother and I," Tom said coldly, "is none of your business. I have a name to uphold, a reputation to protect. You may not understand this, but being a Kane means something. I will not let you drag it through the mud because of some... affair with a girl who doesn’t belong in our world."

"She belongs in mine," Winn shot back. "And I’m done trying to live in yours."

Tom rose from his chair. "If you insist on going on with this... marriage, consider yourself fatherless."

Winn let out a quiet laugh of release. He straightened, meeting Tom’s gaze one last time. "I always have." He turned on his heel and walked out, the door slamming behind him.

He exhaled, trying to unclench his fists as he walked down the hallway.

As he neared the foyer, the sound of laughter floated through the air. Irene’s father was walking toward the study. Winn brushed past him without a word, ignoring the man’s curious glance.

When he reached the living room, he found Ivy — radiant, unaware of the storm that had just raged. She was engrossed in a conversation with Evans, who was gesturing animatedly about something that made her laugh. His mother and Irene were setting up the dining table, talking softly along with a maid.

"Is your husband going to swoop Ivy away from me like he did you?" Winn asked.

"Winn!" his mother snapped.

"Sorry, Mum," Winn muttered. The apology was purely cosmetic.

"It’s quite alright, Anna," Irene said softly, the edges of her smile hardening. "I am used to Winn’s... distrust issues."

Winn let out a short, dark chuckle. "Issues?" His jaw twitched. "Was I wrong then?"

"Yes, you were," Irene replied evenly, her posture perfect. "And seeing you still haven’t changed, I won’t be surprised if you lose that sweet girl in there too."

"Only if your husband steals her..." Winn shot back.

"Okay, that’s enough!" Anna snapped, her composure cracking. "You both are going to behave tonight!" She turned to glare at her son, then at Irene.