Chapter 260
Winnie stood there, still half-staggering from the alcohol burning through her throat, while Michael held her firmly in place.
He didn’t raise his voice.
He didn’t need to.
Even like this—restraining her, absorbing her weight, blocking impacts—he remained composed. Controlled. Polite in the way he had always been.
That was Michael.
Raised to be careful with words. Careful with people. Careful with consequences.
Not like her.
Winnie had never been careful.
If something was wrong, she said it. If someone crossed her line, she pushed back immediately—regardless of who was watching.
Right or wrong didn’t matter.
Only the outcome did.
That was why, when they were younger, Michael had always been so easy to read.
So easy to push around.
He didn’t know how to fight back. Not properly.
So he had looked at her once—like she was something extraordinary.
Like she had saved him from something he didn’t even have words for.
Now, that version of him felt like another lifetime.
Winnie wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her voice hoarse but steady.
“Michael,” she said coldly, “stop acting like this. You don’t need to play the decent man in front of me.”
Her gaze sharpened.
“This is between me and Lindsay.”
Lindsay’s eyes turned red instantly.
“So now I’m the problem?” she snapped. “She ruins you, humiliates you, and you still protect her? Michael, are you seriously going to keep throwing your dignity away for her?”
“Let go of me.”
Winnie twisted again, trying to break free.
The movement was too forceful.
Too unbalanced.
Her shoulder slammed hard into the edge of a cabinet.
A dull impact echoed through the room.
“Winnie!”
Michael reacted instantly.
His arm shot out, catching the edge before she took the full hit.
The cabinet shook violently.
Silence snapped into place.
For a second, neither of them moved.
Michael’s brow tightened.
A faint wince passed over his face—controlled, but real.
Winnie froze.
Her eyes flicked down to his arm instinctively.
Then stopped.
As if remembering herself.
She pulled back immediately, slipping out of his reach while he was still bracing the cabinet.
Her voice came out sharper now.
“Lindsay, I already told you—there’s nothing between Michael and me—”
“I’m ending the engagement.”
Michael’s voice cut through the room.
Clean.
Final.
Like a blade dropped on glass.
The entire space went silent.
Lindsay’s expression cracked.
For a moment, she didn’t even process it.
“What…?” she whispered. “Michael, what did you just say?”
Her voice rose sharply.
“You’re ending the engagement—for her? For some… disgraced adopted daughter?”
Michael’s gaze didn’t waver.
“This has nothing to do with anyone else.”
His tone stayed even.
But colder now.
“You don’t trust me. And I can’t build a relationship on that.”
A pause.
“My past isn’t something I can rewrite. But I’m also not going to keep explaining myself to someone who already decided what I am.”
Lindsay’s lips trembled.
“And what am I supposed to do with that?” she asked, voice breaking. “Just accept it?”
Michael didn’t answer that.
He simply reached out, took Winnie’s wrist, and pulled her toward the door.
Winnie resisted immediately.
“Let go of me.”
No response.
He kept walking.
Lindsay’s voice shattered behind them.
“Michael!”
But he didn’t stop.
“You’ll regret this!”
Outside the Starr residence, the night air was cold enough to cut through the lingering heat of alcohol.
Michael opened the car door and tried to guide Winnie inside.
She shoved him hard.
“Have you completely lost your mind?” she snapped. “You hate me. You’ve always hated me. So why are you interfering now?”
Her chest rose unevenly.
“And do you understand what you just did? Lindsay will file a complaint. This will get worse for me, not better. Stop dragging me into your mess.”
She turned to leave.
Michael caught her wrist again.
Harder this time.
In two strides, he closed the distance and pushed her into the car.
The door shut.
The lock clicked.
Final.
Winnie immediately reached for it, trying to force it open, but it didn’t budge.
“Michael!”
He didn’t look at her.
Not yet.
Only after he started the engine did he finally speak.
“If you go back,” he said flatly, “do you think she’ll let you walk out unscathed?”
Silence.
Winnie’s breath was still uneven.
Michael’s grip tightened slightly on the steering wheel.
“This is the first time I’ve done something like this,” he added, voice lower now. “And I already regret it.”
A pause.
Then, sharper—less controlled:
“Winnie, when have you ever accepted humiliation like this?”
He finally looked at her.
His eyes were dark.
Strained.
“Or did things go wrong again,” he said quietly, “and now you’re just looking for another way to punish yourself?”
That landed differently.
He saw it immediately.
Winnie’s expression changed—not into anger first, but into disbelief.
Then something colder.
“…Michael,” she said slowly, “I hate you.”
The words weren’t loud.
But they were clean.
Precise.
Like something she had chosen carefully.
Michael didn’t respond.
Because for once, he didn’t know whether what hurt more was what she was doing—
or what he had just revealed he believed about her.