29. Chastity
Chastity
We barely slept.
The hotel room still smelled faintly of Wyatt's cologne and the rain that had followed my long drive. I sat on the edge of the bed, wrapped in one of his shirts, staring at the city lights outside the window.
My whole world had shifted in one night.
My father's affair.
Barbara's involvement.
Wyatt's revenge.
And somehow…
Wyatt loving me anyway.
I turned toward him. "I want to expose them."
Wyatt paused. He was leaning against the dresser, arms folded, watching me carefully. "That's not a small thing, sweetheart."
"I know." My voice was steady.
He studied my face. "That's your father."
"And that was his mistress."
Silence stretched between us.
Wyatt exhaled slowly. "You still love him."
I nodded. "But I won't protect what he did."
Something shifted in his expression. Recognition, maybe. Or respect. He pushed off the dresser and crossed to me, kneeling so we were eye level.
"You understand what this means?" His hands settled on my knees. "The merger falls apart. Your mother gets humiliated. Your father's reputation burns."
"I know."
"Your job—"
"I don't care about the job." The words came out firmer than I expected. "I care about the truth."
His thumb traced small circles on my skin. "The truth destroys things."
"Good." I met his eyes. "Some things deserve to be destroyed."
He searched my face for a long moment. "This isn't about revenge for you, is it?"
I shook my head slowly.
"Then what is it?"
I thought about my mother's broken laugh. The way she'd stood in that ballroom pretending everything was fine while the woman who'd slept with her husband smiled across the room.
I thought about Wyatt's scarred hands and the way he'd carried shame that was never his to carry.
I thought about all the lies that had built this pretty, polished world I'd grown up in.
"It's about not being complicit anymore."
Wyatt's jaw worked. "Your father will fight back."
"Let him."
"Barbara will make it ugly."
"I'm ready."
He cupped my face, tilting it up. "You're sure?"
I leaned into his touch. "The only thing I'm sure of is you."
His eyes darkened. "Then we do this together."
"Together," I repeated.
He kissed me—not with heat this time, but with something deeper. A promise sealed with lips and breath and the understanding that we were about to walk into fire.
When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against mine.
"Tomorrow I'll call my lawyer. We'll need documentation. Proof."
"I can get that," I said quietly.
His brow furrowed. "How?"
"My father keeps everything." I swallowed. "Every contract. Every agreement. Every dirty secret."
"And you know where he keeps them?"
"I've had access to his office my entire life." My voice cracked slightly. "He trusts me."
Wyatt's hands tightened on my face. "This is going to hurt."
I nodded. "I know."
"You don't have to do this."
"Yes," I whispered. "I do."
Because I'd spent my whole life being the perfect daughter. The one who smiled at the right moments and stayed quiet when it mattered.
But I was done performing. Done protecting people who'd never protected anyone but themselves.
Wyatt pulled me into his chest, arms wrapping around me. The hotel room shrinking around us until there was nothing but the intensity of his gaze. "If you do this, there's no taking it back."
I met his eyes without flinching. "I'm not asking you to fight my battles."
He snorted softly, a sound caught between amusement and something darker. "Too late for that."
The weight of his words settled over me—warm, possessive, utterly certain. I'd stopped being a pawn in someone else's game the moment I'd chosen to drive here tonight. The moment I'd chosen him.
A faint smile tugged at my lips. "Then come with me."
His control snapped.
He closed the distance and kissed me hungrily, hands sliding into my hair with a desperation that stole my breath. Not the careful, measured touches from before. This was raw need, barely restrained fury channeled into the slide of his mouth against mine.
I gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, needing to feel the solid weight of him. Needing proof that this was real, that I wasn't alone in this choice.
His hands moved to my waist, lifting me effortlessly onto the dresser. I gasped against his mouth as he stepped between my legs, his body pressing mine back until I felt the cool mirror against my shoulders.
"Wyatt—"
He silenced me with another kiss, deeper this time, his tongue sweeping past my parted lips. One hand cupped my jaw while the other gripped my hip hard enough to bruise.
When he finally pulled back, we were both breathing hard. His forehead rested against mine, eyes closed, jaw tight.
"Tomorrow," he said roughly, "we burn it all down."
I nodded, still catching my breath. "Tomorrow."
His thumb traced my swollen lower lip. "But tonight?"
I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. "Tonight I need you."
Something dangerous flickered in his eyes. "I'm not letting you go. You understand that?"
"Then don't."
He kissed me again, softer this time but no less intense. And as his hands slid beneath the shirt I wore, I realized with startling clarity that I'd never been more certain of anything in my life.
Whatever came next—whatever burned in the aftermath—we'd face it together.
My father's office felt colder than usual. Mahogany desk gleaming under harsh overhead lights. City skyline stretching behind floor-to-ceiling windows like a kingdom he thought he owned.
Thomas Harrington looked up when we walked in. His eyes landed on Wyatt immediately. Fury ignited. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Then he looked at me. Something shifted in his expression—calculation warring with control.
"Did he tell you?"
My chest tightened. "Tell me what, Dad?"
He slammed his hand on the desk hard enough to make me flinch. "Don't play games with me." His glare snapped back to Wyatt, venomous and sharp. "You couldn't ruin me fast enough, so now you're poisoning my daughter?"
Wyatt didn't move. Didn't flinch. His voice came out flat, emotionless. "She came to me."
"Bullshit."
I stepped forward, heart pounding so hard I heard it in my ears. "I heard Mom last night."
My father froze.
Every muscle in his body went rigid.
I held his gaze, refusing to back down.
"The affair. Barbara. Everything."
The room went silent. The kind of silence that swallowed sound and left nothing but the truth hanging naked between us.
My father's jaw worked. His hands flattened on the desk like he was bracing himself. "Chastity—"
"Don't." My voice cracked, but I forced it steady. "Don't lie to me anymore."
His face shifted—anger dissolving into something uglier. Desperation. "You don't understand what you're talking about."
"I understand perfectly." I took another step closer. "You had an affair with Barbara. For years. While Mom stood beside you pretending everything was fine."
His eyes cut to Wyatt, venom seeping back in. "He's using you."
I laughed—a sharp, bitter sound I barely recognized. "You think I'm that stupid?"
"He orchestrated this entire thing to destroy me." His voice rose. "The garden photos. The relationship. All of it."
"I know."
That stopped him.
His expression twisted with confusion.
I swallowed hard, forcing the words out. "I know he planned it. I know he wanted revenge." I glanced at Wyatt, then back at my father. "And I know why."
My father's face drained of color. "Chastity, listen to me—"
"No." The word came out harder than I intended. "You listen." I stepped up to his desk, hands trembling but voice steady. "You ruined his life. You slept with his wife. You destroyed his reputation. You made him look like the villain when you were the one who betrayed him."
"That's not—"
"It is." I slammed my own hand on the desk, matching his earlier fury. "And then you used me to clean up the mess."
His breath came faster. "I was protecting you."
"You were protecting yourself."
Silence crashed between us again.
"And everyone is going to know the truth."
Behind me, Wyatt stood perfectly still—a shadow I felt more than saw.
My father's gaze flickered to him, then back to me. "If you expose this, you'll lose everything."
I met his eyes without flinching. "Good."
His face went white. "The merger will collapse. Your mother will be humiliated. Your future—"
"I don't care about the merger." My voice dropped low, dangerous. "And I'm done protecting people who only care about themselves."
My father stared at me like he didn't recognize me. And honestly? I couldn't even blame him. Because I barely recognized myself anymore either.
I turned toward the door.
Wyatt moved with me, hand finding the small of my back—steady, grounding.
My father's voice cracked behind us. "Chastity, please—"
I stopped. Looked back over my shoulder. "You taught me that image was everything, Dad." I let the words hang for a beat. "So let's see how yours holds up when the truth comes out."
My father's eyes cut to Wyatt again. Red-rimmed. Wild. "You used her."
Wyatt's jaw tightened. I felt the tension ripple through his body where his hand still rested against my back. "That was the plan."
I flinched. Just slightly. The words still stung even though I knew the truth behind them.
But Wyatt kept going. "Until I fell in love with her."
My father laughed—bitter, sharp, ugly. "You expect me to believe that?"
Wyatt stepped forward. "I'd marry her tomorrow if she wanted."
My breath caught in my throat. Heat flooded my chest, spreading up my neck until I was sure my face burned crimson.
He didn't look at me. The words hung between us like a vow already spoken.
My father's expression darkened into something I'd never seen before. Not anger. Not rage. Fear.
"We didn't come here to destroy you." Wyatt's voice turned deadly calm.
My father scoffed. "You already tried."
Wyatt shook his head once. "We came here out of respect." A beat. Silence stretched so tight I thought it might snap. "Do the right thing."
My heart pounded so hard I heard it in my ears.
Wyatt's tone didn't waver. "Step down."
My father stiffened like he'd been struck.
"Focus on your marriage."
The words landed with surgical precision. Not cruel. Not vindictive. Just true.
My father's hands curled into fists on the desk. "You can't—"
Wyatt cut him off with a single step closer. "Or I'll expose everything."
The threat hung in the air like a loaded weapon.
I watched my father's face shift through a dozen expressions—fury, defiance, calculation. Then something broke. Just for a second. Long enough for me to see the man beneath the polish. His voice came out hoarse. "You'd really do that?"
Wyatt's answer was immediate. "Without hesitation." His lips curved. "After everything you did to me? The only reason I haven't already is your daughter."
My father looked at me then. Really looked at me. Like he was searching for the daughter who used to smile at his business dinners and wear the dresses he picked out and never question anything.
That girl was gone.
"Chastity." His voice cracked. "You're really choosing him?"
I stepped closer to Wyatt. Not hiding behind him. Standing beside him. "Absolutely."
My father's shoulders sagged. Just slightly. Enough that I noticed.
Wyatt's hand found mine. Squeezed once. Then he spoke again, quieter this time. "You've got forty-eight hours."
My father's head snapped up. "To do what?"
"Announce your resignation. Cite personal reasons." Wyatt's tone was businesslike now. Clinical. "Issue a statement praising your wife's strength and supporting her through a difficult transition."
I watched my father's face pale.
"Give Barbara your shares in the merger. Let her run it without you." Wyatt tilted his head slightly. "She earned it, didn't she?"
My father flinched.
Wyatt's grip on my hand tightened. "You do that, and this stays quiet."
My father's voice came out strangled. "And if I don't?"
Wyatt's smile was all teeth. "Then every reporter in the city gets documentation proving the affair. Timestamped emails. Hotel receipts. Text messages." He paused. "All of it."
My father stared at him with naked hatred.
But beneath that?
Defeat.
Because we both knew Wyatt wasn't bluffing.
Wyatt turned toward the door, pulling me with him. We made it three steps before my father's voice stopped us. "You think you can threaten me in my own office?"
My stomach sank.
I already knew the answer.
My father straightened his tie with deliberate precision—the same gesture I'd watched him make a thousand times before high-stakes meetings.
"This merger is bigger than all of us."
My chest tightened. The words landed like a physical blow, stealing the air from my lungs. "Dad…"
He wouldn't even look at me. His eyes stayed fixed somewhere over my shoulder, avoiding the tears he had to know were coming.
"You don't understand how the world works."
I sucked in a breath, my eyes wet. Just quiet disappointment sliding down my cheeks in hot tracks that I couldn't stop.
My father finally turned. Something flickered across his face—regret, maybe, or the ghost of the man who used to read me bedtime stories.
"Honey…" He stepped closer, hand reaching out like he might actually touch me.
Like he might remember I was his daughter and not just another piece on his chessboard.
"You don't know what this man is capable of. "
I wiped the tears away with the back of my hand. My vision cleared. My breathing steadied.
And suddenly—I wasn't sad anymore.
I was done.
"You didn't raise an idiot."
Thomas stopped mid-step.
I looked him straight in the eyes, refusing to blink, refusing to back down. "And I'm grateful for that."
His brow furrowed, confusion replacing certainty.
I took a breath. "Because it means I know when someone is lying to me."
My father's face fell. The mask he wore so well—the confident CEO, the devoted husband, the proud father—cracked down the middle. What remained looked older. Smaller. Almost human.
I reached for Wyatt's hand. His fingers wrapped around mine immediately, warm and steady and sure. "I've made up my mind."
My father opened his mouth. Closed it. Tried again. "Chastity—"
But I was already moving toward the door.
Wyatt walked beside me, matching my pace, his presence solid and grounding. The office that had always felt so impressive—so powerful—seemed smaller now. Just wood and glass and a man who'd built an empire on lies.
"Please." My father's voice cracked behind us.
I didn't stop. Didn't turn. Didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me waver.
For the first time in my life, I walked out of my father's office without looking back.
The door clicked shut behind us with a finality that felt like an ending and a beginning wrapped into one impossible moment.
Wyatt squeezed my hand once.
We'd crossed a line we could never uncross. And I'd never felt more certain of anything in my entire life.