Chapter 27
Snow
Six weeks after Wyatt’s gallery speech, I’m finally building the life I dreamed of. My business is growing, I have clients who value my work, and I’m standing on solid ground.
Until the email arrives on a Tuesday morning.
I read it three times before the words fully penetrated.
After careful consideration, Mitchell, Grant & Associates has decided to terminate our consulting agreement effective immediately.
While we were initially impressed with your strategic vision, recent concerns about your personal stability have led us to question whether you’re the right fit for our company’s needs.
My hands are shaking as I set down my coffee mug. This was supposed to be my big break. The contract that would prove I could make it on my own. And now it’s gone, yanked away with vague accusations about my “personal stability.”
The words feel like Preston’s voice in my head. You’re not stable. You’re not capable. You need me.
My phone rings, and I grab it desperately.
“Snow?” Nico’s voice is tight with worry. “I just heard. Are you okay?”
“How did you—?”
“Word travels fast.” I can hear her moving around, probably grabbing her keys. “I’m coming over.”
“Nico, I don’t understand. Everything was fine. What changed?”
“I have a theory about that,” she says grimly. “Give me thirty minutes.”
While I wait for Nico, I pace my cottage. The panic is rising, that old familiar feeling of everything crumbling.
Thirty minutes later, Nico storms in, her eyes blazing with fury.
“It was Preston,” she says without preamble.
“What?”
“Preston sabotaged you. He called Mitchell & Grant’s investors, voicing concerns about your mental stability. He suggested you’re having an emotional breakdown.”
The room spins. “He’s destroying everything I’ve built.”
“He’s trying to.” Nico sits beside me, her hand warm on my shoulder. “He still thinks he can get you back. He wants you dependent. Wants you to think you can’t survive without him.”
“Maybe I can’t.” The words come out broken. “If he can destroy one contract this easily, what’s to stop him from destroying everything else?”
“We are.” Nico’s voice is fierce. “You’re not fighting this alone, Snow.”
Before I can ask what she means, there’s another knock on my door. Nico jumps up to answer it, and to my shock, Wyatt walks in carrying a laptop bag and wearing an expression of grim determination.
“I love you so damn much,” he says simply, crossing the room to pull me into his arms.
I break. All the fear, all the panic, all the feeling of helplessness pour out as I bury my face in his chest. “He’s taking everything from me.”
“No, he’s not.” Wyatt’s voice is firm, his arms solid around me. “He doesn’t get to win.”
“How did you—?” I manage through tears.
“Nico called me.” He pulls back just enough to cup my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away my tears. “And we’ve been making calls.”
Nico sets her laptop on the coffee table. “Wyatt reached out to everyone he knows — people from the gallery, his modeling contacts, Derek’s clients. They want to work with you, Snow. Preston can spew his poison all he wants, but he has no power in our world.”
“But—”
“No buts,” Wyatt says gently. “You have three new clients ready to sign contracts today. Five more who want to meet with you this week.” His eyes are intense, focused entirely on me. “Preston took one door and slammed it in your face. We’ll open ten more.”
I stare at him, overwhelmed. “You did all this? For me?”
“Of course we did.” He says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “Your dreams matter, Snow. And no one —no one— gets to take them away from you.”
The conviction in his voice breaks something open in my chest. “Why?”
“Because I love you.” He pulls me close again, his voice soft against my hair. “I told you before that watching you build something that matters to you is one of my favorite things in the world.”
Nico clears her throat. “Okay, this is beautiful, but we have work to do. Snow, you have calls to make.”
The next few hours pass in a blur. Wyatt stays beside me through every phone call, bringing me water, squeezing my hand, and celebrating when I sign new contracts. He doesn’t try to take over or fix it for me. He just supports me.
By the end of the day, I have new clients. I have hope.
After Nico leaves, Wyatt and I collapse on my couch, the adrenaline of the day finally fading. I curl into his side, breathing in the familiar scent of him, feeling the solid warmth of his body against mine.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “For fighting for me.”
“Always.” He presses a kiss to my hair. “That’s what love is, Snow. Showing up. Fighting. Choosing you, every single time.”
The word “love” makes my chest ache. Not with doubt — not anymore — but with the overwhelming reality of it. This man just spent an entire day calling in favors, risking his reputation, using every connection he had to save my dreams.
Not to control me. Not to make me dependent on him. To set me free.
“I was so scared,” I admit, my voice breaking. “When I got that email, all I could think was that Preston was right. That I’m not strong enough to do this alone.”
“You’re not alone.” His arms tighten around me. “You’ll never be alone again.”
“What if I mess this up?” The old fear rises. “What if I’m not brave enough for this?”
“Baby.” He tilts my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes. “You left a toxic marriage. You survived that whole family and world trying to destroy you, and you came out stronger.” His thumb brushes across my cheekbone. “You’re the bravest person I know.”
The absolute certainty in his voice breaks me open. Tears spill over, and he catches them with his thumbs, his touch impossibly gentle.
“I love you,” I whisper. The words come easier than they used to, but the fear is still there, a shadow I can’t quite shake. “I love you so much, and it still scares me sometimes.”
“I know.” He kisses my forehead, my cheeks, the corner of my mouth. “I love you too, so damn much. And it’s okay to be scared. I’m going to keep proving it to you, every day, for as long as you need.”
That night, as we lie in my bed, I feel the familiar war between my heart and my head. Preston’s sabotage has cracked something open — not doubt in Wyatt, but doubt in myself. In my judgment. Because I chose Preston, too, once. What if I’m making the same mistake again?
I know it’s not rational. I know Wyatt has proven himself over and over. But the scars run deep.
“What are you thinking?” Wyatt murmurs against my hair.
“That I hate that Preston can still get in my head like this,” I whisper. “That I hate doubting myself when I finally thought I’d figured out how to trust again.”
His arms tighten around me. “You’re allowed to be scared. He hurt you badly, and today he tried to hurt you again. It makes sense that old fears would resurface.”
“But it’s not fair to you.”
“Love isn’t about fair. It’s about showing up, even when it’s hard.” He presses a kiss to my temple. “I’ll keep proving it to you, Snow. However many times you need.”
And that — that patient understanding — finally unlocks something in my head and my heart.
Because he has proven it. When the photos from St. Lucia broke my trust, he showed me the truth through his art.
When I needed space, he gave it without resentment.
When Preston attacked my business, Wyatt showed up within an hour, ready to fight.
When I was spiraling, he just held me and reminded me who I am.
This is what love looks like. Not perfect. Not fearless. But consistent. Patient. Real.
Preston conditioned me to believe love meant control. But Wyatt has spent months showing me something different. He supports my independence. Celebrates my strength. Fights for my dreams without making me feel indebted.
He really is the hero from every romance book.