Chapter 81: Everest Firm Closed The Deal
Ivy stepped back then, her body tense with the memory of what Winn was capable of when he wanted to prove a point. She’d already learned the hard way that when he promised to take her wherever, whenever, he meant it. But this was the House of Kane. People were already murmuring about her.
She didn’t want to hand them more ammunition on a silver platter. She forced her voice steady. "Anything else, sir?"
The growl he released wasn’t quite under his breath. Winn dragged a hand down his jaw in frustration, eyes burning into her before he turned and resumed his climb up the staircase.
At her desk, Ivy tried to bury herself in work. She dialed Trinity Estates. She repeated the project details, poised with her pen, but the response she got nearly knocked the air out of her lungs.
"I’m sorry, Ms. Morales," the contact at Trinity said smoothly. "The property was purchased this morning. Everest Firm closed the deal."
Her stomach dropped. Everest?
Ivy lowered the receiver slowly, her mind racing. She didn’t know all the details, but she didn’t need to—she could practically feel Winn’s fury already. She got to her feet, and approached his office. Her chest tightened as she peeked in, cautious, almost bracing herself for impact.
"Sir, uh...we have a problem."
Winn was bent over his desk. His head snapped up. "What is it?"
Ivy swallowed. "Everest Firm bought the property already."
She watched his expression flicker—confusion, realization, disbelief—before finally hardening into anger. "How the fuck did he know?" he growled.
"I have no idea," Ivy whispered.
"Shit!" Winn shoved back his chair. He grabbed his jacket in one quick, violent motion. His rage was palpable, radiating off him in waves.
"Do you need me?" Ivy asked softly, her hand hovering near the edge of his desk as Winn shrugged on his jacket, his whole frame vibrating with tension.
"No." Without another glance, he strode past her and out the door.
*****
Evans Everest’s office was the very definition of wealth curated to intimidate: dark mahogany shelves lined with books he never read, whiskey bottles half-drained but displayed like trophies.
He paced across the Persian rug, restless, agitated. "How hard is it to find someone?" he snapped. "She is just one woman. Just one. Maybe I should get someone else to do the job."
The private investigator sitting in the chair shifted uneasily. "Sir," the PI said carefully, measuring each word, "whoever you replace me with is still going to give you the same news. I haven’t heard even a peep about your sister. It’s been years. Maybe..." He hesitated. "...Maybe she moved to another country."
Evans spun, glaring at him with eyes so cold they seemed to hollow the air. "Then search another country." He slammed his palm against the desk. "For God’s sake, you have everything you need at your disposal. Everything. What more do you need? A private jet? More money?" His chest heaved as he leaned forward. "Tell me!"
The PI raised both hands slightly, trying to calm him. "Sir, I’ll keep trying. But if she doesn’t want to be found, that makes the search more complicated. Do you know if she’s living under another name? Did she marry? Change her identity? Anything at all that could narrow the field?"
Evans’s face twisted, jaw ticking, the muscles in his neck taut. His hand went to the back of his head, dragging through his hair until it stood on end. "I don’t know anything," he spat, frustration burning through him. "If I did, I wouldn’t be asking you to find her, now would I?"
His outburst rang through the room.
A polite knock at the door drew Evan’s attention. The secretary’s head appeared. "Sir, you have a visitor."
"Tell them to wait."
Before she could blink, the door slammed open and Winn Kane strode in. He practically shoved the secretary aside. "You son of a bitch!!!" he barked.
A slow smirk spread across Evans’s face. "We’ll pick this up later," he said to the private investigator. The PI nodded, got up and slipped out the door.
"Winn! How are you? You look... red."
Winn closed the distance between them in two strides, and where most men would have been content with words, he brought heat with him. "You are a bastard," he said. "Tell me, who’s feeding you information. Huh? Go on. Tell me. Who?"
Evans’s smirk sharpened. "I have no idea what you’re talking about," he replied smoothly. "And even if there was someone, do you really think I’d tell you simply because you stormed in here, eyes popping out of their sockets?"
Winn’s nostrils flared. "I am going to finish you, Evans. I will. And when I find whoever is feeding you info, you better have a job for them here."
He let out a breath in relish. "Finish me?" he said slowly. "You think a chest-high temper is the same as strategy? You think brute force wins wars? Who hurt you as a kid? Winn, you’ve always been quick to strike. Too quick. You’re good with instincts. I’m patient. I wait. I watch. I buy alliances where you try to broke them down with rage."
The desire to press the attack, to make this an old-fashioned brawl and be done with it, hummed under his skin. Instead he inhaled slowly. "I’ll find the leak," he said. "And when I do, you’ll wish you’d never been a pig."
"I heard you’re getting married. I’m surprised you are actually," he said. "Thought you’d still be hung up on my wife."
Winn’s breathing remained measured, though the heat of anger radiated off him. He stepped closer, lowering his voice into a deadly growl. "Your wife means nothing to me anymore," he said. "Don’t get in my way, Evans. You do not want to test me. You’ve gotten away with it in the past, not anymore."
There was a finality in his tone, an unspoken warning that this time, the scales had shifted. Every ounce of patience he had once afforded him evaporated into controlled fury.