Ivy didn’t bother turning around. "Don’t hold your breath," she muttered under hers, as she strode toward Joey’s office.
When she stepped into Joey’s office, the tension in her chest eased slightly. Joey looked up from his desk, warm and genuine as always. "Hey! Hi, Ivy!"
"Hi, Joey." She smiled back, relieved by his kindness. "How’s Diane?" she asked.
"She’s good," Joey replied with an easy grin. "Excited for the wedding, actually."
Joey leaned back, his eyes soft. "Still can’t believe you’ll be married in four days. Time flew, huh?"
"Yeah," Ivy said. "Still can’t believe it myself. Winn’s been... quite busy."
"That’s Winn," Joey said with a small laugh. "He acts like he’s got to personally build the mall brick by brick. The investors have been riding him hard, and between that and the wedding, I don’t know how the man’s still standing."
"I barely see him," Ivy admitted.
Joey leaned forward slightly. "Listen, as the best man, I can help with whatever you need."
"You know I worked at Commissioned, right? As a dancer?" Ivy asked.
Joey glanced up, brows lifting slightly. His usually easygoing face softened at the edges. "Yeah. Of course I know." He tilted his head, noticing the way her hands fidgeted with the strap of her bag. "Everything alright?"
"I’m being blackmailed," Ivy said finally, pulling the thick brown envelope from her bag. The edges were creased from how many times she’d opened it, closed it, and stared at it in panic. She slid it across his desk.
Joey leaned forward and opened it, pulling out the photographs. "Oh boy." He flipped through the images.
"Oh boy. This is bad. But we’ll handle it. Just... focus on the wedding."
Ivy let out a small, humorless laugh. "Focus on the wedding?" Her voice cracked slightly. "Joey, someone wants five hundred thousand dollars. Five hundred. Thousand. Dollars. All I can think about is that these pictures will be on the internet and Winn—"
Joey pushed his chair back and stood, moving around the desk to her side. He crouched slightly so they were at eye level. "Hey. This isn’t the first time Winn has been shaken down. You have no idea how many fires he’s put out. Sylvia alone has gotten into so much trouble that the man should get a medal for crisis management."
Ivy’s lips twitched despite herself. "That sounds... disturbingly on brand for Sylvia."
Joey chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. "Exactly. He’s handled worse, Ivy. He can handle this. You don’t have to do it alone."
"But telling him..." She trailed off, hugging her arms around herself. "I’ve been trying to figure out how to say, ’Hey babe, surprise, someone has pictures of me half-naked grinding on men for cash.’ I don’t exactly see him popping champagne after hearing that."
Joey placed a reassuring hand on her arm. "He already knows you’ve lived a life before him. Winn Kane doesn’t back down from threats. He crushes them." He tilted his head. "You need to trust that."
Her throat tightened. "I do. I just—"
"Don’t want to be his next crisis," Joey finished gently.
Ivy blinked at him, stunned. "Yeah," she whispered.
"it will be okay. Just let him handle it. Its what he does best."
"Okay," she said, nodding. "See you later, Joey." She picked up her bag, trying to find her steady feet again.
But as she turned to leave, Joey’s voice followed her.
"Do you have any idea what Sylvia’s up to these days?"
Ivy raised a brow. "Why?"
"I’m just worried about her, that’s all." Joey said. It was part true. But the other part — the part he didn’t voice — was darker. He was worried Sylvia might actually be involved in something ugly, something tied to Tom and this ridiculous blackmail business that could blow up right in Winn’s face days before the wedding.
"She’s doing okay," Ivy said, crossing her arms. "Keeping busy. She wants to start her restaurant, so she’s doing a lot of legwork."
"That’s good. Good." Joey nodded absently. "Thank you."
Ivy hesitated, sensing he wanted to say more, but she let it go. "Of course," she said quietly.
When she left the office, Joey sat there for a long time, staring at the envelope she’d left behind for him to keep. He tapped his fingers on it slowly, thinking about how secrets never stayed buried in their world — they just waited for the right moment to explode.
Winn sat on the terrace that night. He had a glass of non-alcoholic wine in his hand.
Then he heard the rumble of an engine.
Reese pulled into the driveway. Winn simply exhaled, setting his glass on the table beside him. He’d told himself he wouldn’t do this again — wouldn’t let this side of him out — but some lessons needed teaching, and Kevin had pushed too far.
The car door slammed. Reese climbed out, his movements efficient, detached. He opened the trunk and yanked someone out. Kevin stumbled and fell to his knees, whimpering.
Reese dragged him across the terrace and dropped him at Winn’s feet.
"Mr. Kane!" Kevin cried. "Mr. Kane, what is this? I—I didn’t do anything! Please, sir!"
Winn’s gaze lifted slowly, lazily. "Sit down, Kevin."
Kevin looked around wildly. There was only him, Winn, and Reese — the same Reese who stood behind him now with that bored, dangerous expression that said he’d done this before.
"Please, Mr. Kane, I don’t—"
Winn leaned back in his seat, studying him. "Go on, Kevin," he said finally. "I won’t bite." A faint smirk curved his lips. "Yet."
Kevin’s throat bobbed. "I—I don’t know what you think I did—"
"Oh, Kevin." Winn sighed softly, swirling the wine in his glass. "You know exactly what you did. The problem is you thought I wouldn’t find out. And that’s insulting."
Kevin quickly dropped into the chair the moment Reese’s towering frame loomed closer. Kevin’s knees knocked against each other as he tried to keep his voice steady, eyes darting around the lavish terrace.