Chapter 83: Someone Has Been Dumped
Her stomach churned. Winn had been right—it was done remotely. She leaned back in her chair, blinking fast, but the tears still burned, spilling anyway. The question knotted in her chest: Why me? If they wanted to destroy the mall project, why use her as the scapegoat, the disposable one?
The sound of heels clicking across the floor startled her. She quickly dabbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her blouse, but Lydia’s hawk eyes caught it instantly. Lydia sauntered in with the kind of smugness only she could muster, her lips painted a poisonous shade of red.
"Someone has been dumped," Lydia sang out in a sing-song voice, her laugh echoing through the open floor.
Ivy grabbed her notepad and pen and headed for the stairs. The simple act of walking away was her only shield.
She positioned herself downstairs as she always did, standing ramrod straight near the glass doors. She squared her shoulders, her spine a steel rod. She had built her armor again, retreating into herself, determined to be untouchable.
And then he arrived.
The car rolled in precisely at eight. Reese stepped out first, opening the door for him. Winn Kane emerged. Her heart betrayed her, beating harder, faster.
"Good morning, Mr. Kane."
Winn slowed, his sharp eyes scanning her face, pausing on the faint redness around her eyes, the tautness of her lips. He recognized the barricades she had pulled up—the way she shielded herself with formality.
"Morning, Ivy."
He held her gaze for a second longer than necessary. He was trying to gauge her, to read the storm he had left in her eyes.
Her shoulders lifted in the slightest of shrugs, retreating further behind her wall of professionalism. She stepped aside, granting him the path to his kingdom, and he walked past her, every inch the arrogant bastard.
She followed him up the stairs to the executives’ floor. His broad shoulders were tense beneath the suit as he pushed open the door to his office. She stepped inside, nerves tight as wire.
He took his seat, his eyes lifting to her slowly. "I don’t have anything for you," he said at last.
"I am ready to answer any questions you have about the leak."
Winn rolled his eyes, the movement sharp and dismissive. "Ivy," he said, "you may not be the one feeding Evans information, but the fact still remains—your login credentials were used to access the file. And then forwarded to Everest Firm." He leaned back in his chair, his gaze sliding over her.
Her pulse thudded in her ears. "And like I said, I have no knowledge of that. I have never given anyone my login details. The only way anyone could have it is if they have access to the admin network."
His brow arched, his mouth twitching. "Are you saying myself or Joey leaked confidential information?"
She bit her lip, heat rushing to her cheeks at the suggestion. There was no winning with him. "No," she said finally. "I’m just letting you know that I had nothing to do with this." She met his eyes, forcing herself not to flinch under the weight of his stare. "I have never had any personal contact with Everest’s CEO."
"I believe you. Joey and the IT team are still looking into it," Winn finally said.
"Yes, sir," she answered. She turned to leave, each step carrying both dignity and the lingering sting of being suspected in the first place.
"Ivy..." His voice halted her at the door. She froze, back straight, before slowly glancing over her shoulder. His eyes softened. "I shouldn’t have doubted you."
Her throat tightened. She swallowed the heat rising in her chest, forced her lips into a neutral line, and replied simply, "Yes, sir." Then she pushed the door open and left before her emotions betrayed her, her spine straight as steel.
******
Joey sat at the corner table of the café, nursing a mug of black coffee that had already gone lukewarm.
When Sylvia stepped through the doors, she spotted him instantly, her lips curving into that smile that had once undone him entirely.
"Hey, Joey!" she greeted brightly, sliding into the chair opposite him. "I’m so glad you called."
He didn’t return her smile. Instead, he leaned forward, forearms on the table, his eyes dark with determination. "This isn’t a social call, Sylvia. What have you done, and what’s the point?"
Sylvia widened her eyes, lashes fluttering dramatically. "I don’t understand what you’re talking about." She tilted her head, lips parting in a pout.
"Don’t pull that crap with me, Sylvia. I have always been able to see through your lies," Joey snapped. Joey’s temper was burning, and the woman across from him was the gasoline. His jaw was set tight, veins straining against the skin.
"Joey...I really have no idea what you are talking about." Her hand brushed her hair over one shoulder, exposing the smooth curve of her neck. She knew exactly how her body could distract him.
He leaned forward, eyes blazing, refusing to be seduced by her act. "Fine. You want to play dumb. There was a breach at House of Kane. I tracked the IP address to the public library right over there." He jerked his head toward the window where the library loomed across the street, glass façade gleaming in the late morning sun.
"And I thought, hey, that’s the end of that, right?"
Sylvia’s lips parted, but Joey didn’t let her interrupt. He wanted her squirming under the weight of his truth. "But then I had an idea. Last night, I paid the owner of this café—" he gestured around them, toward the counter— "to let me view his security cameras.
From the exact time Ivy’s login details were used to access the House of Kane network. And guess who’s on the video, walking into the library?"
Sylvia sighed. The charm drained from her eyes, leaving only resignation and fear. "Joey..." she whispered.
"No." He cut her off with a raised hand, his eyes narrowing. His fury vibrated in every word. "There is no excuse you’re about to give me that justifies what you’ve done. You dragged your own brother’s fiancée into this mess. Do you even realize what you’ve set in motion?"
He slammed his palm lightly against the table, the mugs rattling between them. "Do you know what Winn is like when someone betrays him? Because I do. I’ve seen it. And to think Ivy had nothing to do with this but his own sister..."
"Joey, please listen to me. I didn’t want to do it." Tears welled in her eyes, turning her mascara into streaks of vulnerability.
"Who asked you to?" Joey demanded. His whole chest burned with the need for answers, for the truth.
"It was Dad," she whispered. "He... he doesn’t like Ivy. You know that." Her lips trembled as she confessed it, her hands curling into fists on the table as if gripping invisible chains.
"So he does what Tom Kane would typically do. Sabotage." He leaned back in his chair. "And he used you—the one Winn trusts the most in the world. And you betrayed him without a second thought. What did he offer you, Sylvia? Tell me. What could make you go against your brother? What?" His chest rose and fell rapidly.
He lowered his tone to a hiss, intimate in its venom. "You don’t like Ivy either?"
He offered me you, she thought. To speak that truth would ruin her. Instead, she muttered, "You know Dad. He is... persistent." Her gaze darted away.
"Persistent?" Joey barked a bitter laugh. "Is that a polite word for evil?" He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. His whole body vibrated with frustration.
"Joey, please don’t tell Winn. Please." She reached across the table, fingers trembling, but he didn’t take her hand.
He exhaled, the sound guttural. "I think I dodged a bullet," he said finally. "I think it was a blessing we never got married. Your family drama isn’t something I can wrap my head around." He shoved his chair back, reached for his wallet, pulled out a bill, and dropped it onto the table with the finality of a gavel.
"Joey..." Her cry was soft, desperate, as she shot up from her seat and grabbed his wrist. Her nails pressed into his skin, her eyes glossy with tears that threatened to spill. "Please."
He stared down at her, his jaw rigid, his pulse hammering beneath her grip.
"You have to pick a side, Sylvia," he said. "And I hope to God, it’s not your father’s side." He yanked his hand free, the movement sharp enough to make her stumble back slightly. He didn’t look at her again. Didn’t give himself that weakness.
Instead, he strode out of the café, leaving her standing amid the clink of cups and hiss of steaming milk, her mascara-streaked tears marking her as both guilty and abandoned.
Sylvia sank back into her chair, her body trembling, her lips parting in a soundless plea.
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