CHAPTER 49: IRENE DAMN NEAR GUTTED YOU

Joey’s grin faded, the room suddenly heavier. He knew Winn’s scars ran deep, carved by betrayal and loss, stitched together only with work, women, and whiskey. For years, Winn had locked his heart behind iron gates.

Joey understood. He’d been there through the wreckage of Irene’s betrayal "Look, man," Joey said, running a hand through his hair. "Irene damn near gutted you, but Morales isn’t her. My advice? Ease her into it like you said. Have a real conversation. Find out more about her beyond the fact that she’s smart and intelligent."

He gave Winn a pointed look.

Winn exhaled sharply, scrubbing his hands over his face. "I don’t have time for slow pacing, Joey. I have three months. Three goddamn months. The investors want me married by then or they’ll pull the plug. And if they pull out, everything collapses."

"So you’re running against the clock. Fine. Then start planning a date." He took a long gulp of his beer, eyeing Winn over the rim of the bottle. "And don’t fuck it up by making it sound like a business deal."

"Oh, and she’s coming back to work on Monday," Winn added as if to remind himself.

Joey raised his brows. "Fine. I’ll keep Linda as my secretary then."

Winn nodded.

"When’s your wife coming back?" Winn asked, mostly to distract himself.

"Tomorrow," Joey said, and a grin broke across his face. "Hey! We should double date!"

Winn’s eyes lit up. "Perfect! Sunday night!"

"Wait. Hold up. Sunday night? You want to start with a double date?" Joey sputtered, nearly spilling his beer.

"Why not? When it’s just the two of us, we usually end up talking only about work.With you there, we can talk about anything else. Normal people things. Dinner conversation. Hell, I could use the practice."

Joey shook his head, chuckling under his breath. "You’re insane. But fine. Maybe my wife will warm up to you if you bring Morales along. She thinks you’re a cold bastard, you know."

"Then Sunday night it is," Winn said, clinking his bottle against Joey’s.

*****

"What do you mean he isn’t proposing to Sharona?!" Tom thundered. They had slipped out after dinner, leaving Anna in bed. Tom had suggested the walk for privacy. Tom’s rage made his broad frame seem even larger. "I didn’t do all this work for him to pick some random floozy to be his wife!"

"That’s what he told me!" Sylvia shot back, wrapping her coat tighter around her frame. "And why the hell do you even care who Winn marries as long as he marries? The whole point is Grandpa’s will, right? The clause is simple—he just has to be married. It could be a hooker off the street for all it matters, Dad!"

She exhaled sharply, frustration burning under her skin. "He could put a ring on a stripper and the lawyers would still have to honor it." If only she knew how close she was.

"No!" Tom barked. He spun to face her, eyes blazing. "He has to be married to Sharona. Or else it doesn’t matter."

"Why? Why, Dad?!" She had played his puppet long enough, helping to push Winn and Sharona together.

"Don’t you dare raise your voice at me!" Tom snapped, stepping closer until his looming shadow swallowed hers.

Sylvia froze, chest heaving, when sudden realization hit her. Her father’s rage, his desperation, his fixation on Sharona—it all made sense now. Her lips parted in a whisper at first, then the words spilled out. "Oh my God... you’ve seen the will." Her stomach dropped, bile rising in her throat. "You have, haven’t you?"

Tom’s shoulders squared, his face hardening. Then, with deliberate calm, he confirmed it. "Yes. I’ve seen it. And your grandfather left nothing to me. Nothing to you. Not even your mother." He spat the words, eyes burning.

"He left us all in the hands of Winn. That boy controls everything now. So if you want Joey back—you will do exactly as I instruct."

"No! No... I am not doing it. What kind of father are you? What does it matter that Gramps left everything to Winn? He is your son. Despite the monster you were to him, he would still give you the world if you asked for it."

"We made a deal. Winn marries Sharona, you get Joey." His hand gestured sharply, dismissive.

Sylvia laughed bitterly. "I realized that I don’t even need your help in getting Joey back." She stepped closer, defiance ringing through her every syllable. "Because while Winn was on his trip, Joey came and fucked me senseless." She spat the words out deliberately, watching her father flinch.

"So yeah, without your help, I am getting him back." The confession made her flush hot, her skin prickling with pride.

Tom barked out a wicked laugh. "You think Joey is going to leave his wife for you? You?" He stepped closer, his face inches from hers, his breath hot and cruel. "A drunk? The only true love you have is a bottle." His laughter faded into a sneer.

Sylvia’s throat burned as tears pricked her eyes. "You know what?" she whispered. "You...you were always the reason I drank." She saw his face twitch, just slightly.

"I started drinking because I couldn’t stand your cruelty to Winn. It was my way of escape. Mum didn’t protect him from you. I didn’t protect him from you. But then he outgrew your abuse, and everything was fine again." She pressed her palm against her chest.

"I stopped drinking. I had a relationship—a good one. A man who adored me." Her lips trembled.

"And then I find out that you have a whole other family asides from us." Tom’s eyes widened. "Yes, I followed you once. I saw you with another woman. Three kids." She saw the shock ripple across his face, the way his nostrils flared.

"Yes, I know, Dad. I know that we do not matter to you. You were laughing and smiling with them like you never did with us." Her chest heaved with sobs she refused to release. "You looked happy. Happy in a way you never were with Mum. Or me. Or Winn."