Both girls squealed at the same time, high-pitched and girlish, clutching each other.
Trish fell backward onto the couch with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling dreamily. "Older men are just always so experienced. And Kane is hot. Like, dangerously hot.."
Ivy buried her face in her hands, groaning. "Trish..."
"What? Don’t even deny it!" Trish sat back up, eyes gleaming. "Tell me everything. How big is he?"
"Trish!" Ivy squealed, smacking her with the pillow, her face on fire.
"Oh my god, you’re blushing!" Trish cackled, dodging the pillow and clapping. "This is the best day of my life. He is that good uhn?"
Ivy laughed, the sound high and breathless. "Yeah, he is. We’ve only done it once, but Trish—every time he looks at me, it’s like..." She lowered her voice, leaning forward with a conspiratorial grin. "Panty drop. Instantly. No warning, no mercy." She fanned herself with her hand. The source of thɪs content is 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝✶𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖✶𝕟𝕖𝕥
"I know!!!" Trish shrieked, collapsing sideways into the cushions as another fit of uncontrollable giggles overtook them both. "Girl, you are so lucky. Do you even realize? You’re basically starring in my dream fantasy. Hot, powerful man. Crazy-good sex. And now marriage?"
Ivy flushed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I’m meeting his parents tomorrow."
Trish sat bolt upright, eyes gleaming. "Okay, okay. Here’s the tip. Cozy up to the female members of the family. They are always the weak point of the first sons. Mothers, sisters, grandmothers—make them adore you, and you’ve got armor for life."
Ivy bit her lip. "I am nervous. A little bit." Her thought took her back to Kane senior.
"Sweetheart," Trish said, "Be yourself. Just... make sure you don’t fall in love with him."
"I’m afraid it’s too late, Trish. I don’t even know when it happened."
"Oh, sweetie..." Trish sighed, wrapping an arm around her. "Then don’t tell him. Not unless... well... unless he feels the same way."
"How am I supposed to know he feels the same way?" Ivy asked, her eyes wide.
"You’ll know, sweetie." Trish tapped her chest, right above Ivy’s heart. "You’ll know. You’ll feel it. Trust me." Then, as if sensing the tension was getting too heavy, she hopped off the couch with a clap of her hands. "Now, what do you have to eat in this house?" She strolled toward the kitchen, humming.
Ivy stayed behind on the couch, hugging her knees, letting her friend’s words settle into the quiet of the room. She had fallen. Hard. And she wasn’t sure if Winn Kane would catch her or let her crash.
"You’re happy," Sylvia pointed out.
"Why? Why do you say so?" Winn sputtered, his fingers fiddling too long with the clasp of his watch, the calm, stoic mask he usually wore cracking under his sister’s sharp stare.
Sylvia smirked. "This marriage thing isn’t just because of the pressure from the investors and Dad. You’re genuinely interested in this woman. Don’t try to deny it. It’s written all over your face."
"I am." He exhaled. "She makes me smile. She makes me... happy." Happiness wasn’t a currency he’d traded in for years. Success, yes. Power, certainly. But happiness? That was a concept he’d long filed under "childish illusions."
"It’s nice to see you happy again. You’ve been Mr. Grumpy since Irene flew away with Evans."
"Ivy is amazing without trying. When I’m with her, it’s like I’m in a calming presence... like the world slows down and I can breathe again." He shook his head. "I still cannot put my finger on it."
"You mean you love her and you like to be around her?" Sylvia asked with a grin, arms crossed.
"I told you before, Syl—love isn’t in the cards for me. I don’t... do love. We merely enjoy each other’s company. That’s all."
"Mm-hmm." Sylvia nodded slowly.
"You excited about her meeting the parents tomorrow?" she asked instead, feigning casual interest as she slid onto the arm of a chair.
"Honestly, I don’t know." Winn’s shoulders lifted in a half-shrug. "On the one hand, I’m not so worried about Mom’s approval—she’s easy to win over. On the other hand, I’m not so sure I care about Dad’s approval anymore. That’s what he does best." His eyes darkened, the smile slipping.
He straightened, walking to the window with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. "But I guess he should be happy at least. When I get married, Grandpa’s will gets read. Maybe that will finally shut him up for five minutes."
"It would be quite annoying if we all went through all this trouble just for Grandpa’s will to be read, and it turned out he left everything to Jasper the dog." Sylvia chuckled, her laugh light and mischievous.
"Depends on who gets Jasper," Winn fired back. He dropped heavily beside her.
"Not it," Sylvia sang immediately, raising her palm.
"What?" Winn smirked. "You going to dig up Grandpa and tell him you don’t want the dog?"
Sylvia leaned her head back against the couch, laughter spilling out. "You think he’d listen? He’s always been a stubborn old fart."
Both siblings dissolved into laughter.
"He cannot marry her." Tom’s voice was a low growl, sharp with contempt. He leaned into Sylvia’s ear as if the walls themselves might betray his plotting. They stood in the opulent Kane dining room, its long table glittering with cutlery. Anna flitted about inspecting the table settings.
Sylvia arched one brow. "Let me guess—she doesn’t swoon over scheming fathers-in-law. What a tragedy."
Tom’s nostrils flared. "You seem to think if everything goes to shit, it won’t touch you. Is that why you’re so damn nonchalant about this?" His whisper carried venom.
"I kept my end of the deal," Sylvia said coolly. "I got Sharona in the door. That was my job. It’s not my fault she couldn’t keep the roof above her head." She leaned closer. "You will keep your end of the deal, or I swear to God, I’ll go to Mum with everything I know."