Winn dragged his hands through his hair, tugging at the strands until his scalp burned.
God, Syl...why do you keep doing this to me?
"You better hope to God nothing happens to her."
Winn didn’t dignify him with a response. If he said the wrong thing now, he knew Tom would escalate until security had to intervene. That was always how it went with his father. Instead, he fixed his eyes on the flooring, tracing the black scuff marks as if they could distract him from the shame crawling up his spine.
He thought about Ivy for a fleeting second, the way she’d looked at him last night before everything went to hell.
"If you had a wife, this wouldn’t happen," Tom pressed. "Someone would have been home to catch this earlier before any of this happened."
"Really! Dad! Really? Right now? While Sylvia is fighting for her life, while your daughter is fighting for her life, you would go there?!"
"Don’t you dare speak to me in that tone! Remember who you are talking to!" Tom thundered.
"I don’t have time for this bullshit!" Winn spat, his throat tight with fury. He turned on his heel, storming across the waiting room. He sank into a plastic chair in the corner, elbows on his knees, head buried in his hands.
The doors opened with a whoosh, and the doctor appeared.
"She’s going to be fine," the doctor finally said. "We managed to pump her stomach in time. She’s weak, but stable. You can see her now, but only briefly."
Anna let out a wail of gratitude, clutching at Tom’s arm, while Winn exhaled shakily and pushed himself to his feet. They all crowded into Sylvia’s room.
Anna threw her arms around her daughter, sobbing into her hair. "Why would you even think of doing this to us? Why, Syl? Why would you want to leave us ?"
Winn stood at the edge of the bed, his chest heavy. He wanted to reach out, to hold her hand.
"I’m sorry, Mom. It was just too much... I couldn’t handle it." Sylvia’s lashes fluttered as she struggled to keep her eyes open, her body looking small and breakable against the crisp white hospital sheets. For a fleeting moment, her gaze landed on her father. She didn’t need him to say a word—she already knew what he was thinking.
She had failed. Again. And in his mind, her weakness was his victory. The daughter who couldn’t live up to the Kane name.
"Rest... don’t speak," Tom said softly. It was the voice of a man who was more concerned with control than compassion, a man who saw every tragedy as another chess piece moving into place. His hand hovered near hers.
"I want to speak to Dad. Alone, please." Anna gasped, clutching her daughter’s hand tighter, reluctant to let go.
"Honey," Anna whined. She couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her fragile girl alone.
"Just a few minutes, please." Sylvia insisted, her dark eyes pleading.
"Come on, Mom." Winn moved in quickly, wrapping an arm around Anna and steering her gently toward the door. His lips brushed her temple as he whispered, "Let her talk. Just let her." Anna reluctantly allowed herself to be led out, glancing back at her daughter every second until the door clicked shut.
"Hey, baby. I’m listening, love," Tom said. He sat down beside her bed, leaning in.
"What do you need me to do?" Sylvia asked simply.
"Winn has to marry Sharona," Tom said, his eyes narrowing with purpose. "And all I need is you to put her in his orbit more frequently. Nothing obvious."
"I am not doing anything to hurt him, right?" Sylvia’s brow furrowed. She loved her brother fiercely, even if she envied him at times. He had always protected her, even when he was harsh. The thought of betraying him twisted in her gut.
"None whatsoever," Tom assured her smoothly. "You’ll be helping him, trust me. A marriage like that will stabilize him."
Sylvia exhaled shakily, searching her father’s face for any sign of sincerity. All she found was ambition. Still, she nodded. "Fine. I want Joey. That’s all I want."
"Done," Tom said immediately. He would promise her the world if it meant getting what he wanted. Whether he actually delivered Joey to her or not, well, that was secondary.
Ivy finally got through to Winn that afternoon. His voice was raw and hoarse on the other end of the line, and when he told her he was at the hospital, her chest tightened with dread. She didn’t hesitate—she marched straight into Joey’s office and informed him.
Joey’s reaction was visceral. He stood quickly. His face paled, his usual cool composure cracking. "She’s in the hospital? Let’s go," he said, shrugging into his jacket. Ivy had to jog to keep up with him.
The hospital air was thick with disinfectant when they arrived. Ivy was quite familiar with hospital waiting rooms. She felt almost at home, her nerves prickling as she followed Joey through the doors.
They found Winn in the hospital lobby, but he wasn’t alone. He had a woman in his arms. The same stunning vision Ivy had spotted at the company’s celebratory party. Sharona. Ivy’s stomach dropped, her heart splintering so sharply she thought the sound might echo across the floors.
A thousand knives stabbed at her chest at once, but she forced her lips into the faintest smile, schooling her face into calm indifference. No one needed to know what she felt. So she simply tucked her pain behind a mask of silence and slipped behind Joey, hoping no one would see the storm inside her.
"Winn!" Joey’s voice carried through the lobby, snapping Winn’s attention upward. The moment Winn’s eyes landed on Ivy, guilt flared across his features. He immediately tried to disentangle himself from Sharona’s embrace, his hands jerking back. "How is she?" Joey asked.
"She is fine now," Winn replied. His gaze kept drifting to Ivy, searching her face, trying to gauge if she had read into the innocent hug Sharona had given him. The flicker in his eyes begged her not to think less of him.