Sylvia moved with a burst of domestic enthusiasm, slipping into the kitchen. The clink of glass and the rush of running water followed her voice as she called back, "How did it go with the investors?"
Winn closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling through his nose.
"It went..." Winn opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, a humorless chuckle escaping him. "Well, let’s just say they gave me a condition. A ridiculous one." His fingers drummed against his thigh, restless, agitated.
Sylvia reappeared with the glass of water, her movements graceful. She set the glass down in front of him, her eyes shining with curiosity.
"A condition?" she asked, tilting her head. "Now you have me intrigued."
"Turns out the investors and Dad’s plan for me now aligns." The irony of it all was almost too much—the Europeans had unknowingly handed his father everything he’d been pushing for. Marriage. Winn huffed a laugh.
Sylvia’s laughter rang out. "Let me guess," she said, "you have to get married." She dropped onto the arm of the sofa.
"In three months." He pinched the bridge of his nose, his posture radiating exhaustion. A deadline on matrimony.
Sylvia smirked. "Well, look on the bright side—you can kill two birds with one stone. You’ll finally get Grandpa’s will read, and you’ll get your precious project funded...So... Sharona, uhn?"
Winn’s head snapped toward her, incredulous. "What? No." His brow furrowed, his mouth twisting.
"Why not? She is gorgeous and sexy." Sylvia crossed her legs dramatically, her bare foot swinging lazily. "Unless..." her grin widened, "...there’s someone else."
"No." Winn shifted in his seat, eyes flicking toward the floor. "Not exactly. But I have three months to find out if she’s marriage material."
"Tell me who she is." Sylvia clasped her hands together, her eyes wide, a practiced little-girl act that usually got her whatever she wanted. She leaned in closer, her pouty lips forming the perfect mockery of puppy eyes.
"Not yet," Winn said firmly. "Soon, though."
Sylvia smiled faintly, settling back. Her mind whirred behind the mask of sisterly warmth. Things were proceeding exactly according to their father’s plan. It didn’t matter who Winn ended up marrying, not really. All that mattered was that Grandpa’s will was read. Joey would no longer be a dream she clawed after. He would be hers.
"Why can’t you just tell me?" she whined, rolling her eyes in exaggerated frustration. "Do you have to be so cryptic all the time?"
"Because you are a blabbermouth," Winn shot back. He reached for the glass of water, finally taking a long sip before continuing. "Once you know, it’s only a matter of time before Mum knows. And then she’ll probably hire a band and propose to her on my behalf." His smirk was crooked. "No. First I have to get to know her better. On my own terms."
"Do you think she is someone you will grow to love?" Sylvia asked. She leaned against the sofa’s arm, her legs curled beneath her.
"Love has nothing to do with this." He raked his fingers through his hair, the loose strands falling boyishly over his forehead. "I just need to save this project. But..." he hesitated, "she is someone I seem to care about. I guess. I don’t know if that makes any sense." His frown deepened, annoyed at his own admission.
"Grampa will be rolling in his grave," Sylvia replied, her lips curving into a faint smirk. She walked over to the mantel, where the old man’s portrait hung. "He always believed in love. Remember? He said a man with power but no heart was nothing but a tyrant." They both remembered Grampa’s warmth even when their father was cold.
"Yeah..." Winn sighed, following her gaze toward the portrait. "I hope Joey’s presence here didn’t bother you. I told him to come police you every day."
"Why would it bother me? I like to see him."
"Sylvia." Winn straightened on the sofa, eyes narrowing in concern. "He is married. I don’t want to see you hurt again."
"I know, I know..." Sylvia’s shoulders slumped just enough to sell the performance. "But he used to be my friend once. I’m sure we can find our way to that again."
Winn studied her for a long moment. Finally, he shook his head. "I don’t think so. His wife will not allow it."
"I guess she is the jealous type, uhn." The idea of Joey’s wife bristling at her presence sent a thrill through her. Competition always made the game more intoxicating.
"You have no idea," Winn muttered, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "Did the chef make anything for dinner?"
"Ah...yes. I’ll just go get her."
"Yeah, bro..." She turned at the door, one hand on the frame.
"I’m glad you are here."
Sylvia smiled warmly, her heart tightening at the sincerity in his gaze. It was that smile she always used when she didn’t want him to see how guilty she felt. She slipped out before he could read her eyes further.
As she walked out of the main building and into the staff quarters, guilt pooled in her stomach. She tried to shake it off, quickening her steps past the hedges glowing in the moonlight. She hadn’t done anything wrong, had she? All she did was introduce him to Sharona. And if Winn was talking about someone else entirely... then her interference didn’t even matter. No use feeling guilty. And yet—God, she still felt like shit.
***** The most update n0vels are published on NovelHub(.)net
Winn arrived at House of Kane headquarters the next morning. Reese had barely pulled to a stop before Winn pushed open the back door and stepped out, sunglasses shielding his tired eyes.
A stranger stood at the entrance with a notepad, blocking his path with nervous determination.
"Who the fuck are you?" Winn snapped.
A hush fell in the lobby.
The young woman blinked, startled by his bluntness. "Uh... I am Linda Dakore. I am your secretary." She answered with a small, practiced smile.