Chapter 20
Tyler
I can barely stand to watch Mia fall apart in front of that crowd. She’s trembling, shoulders hunched, eyes glassy with tears that won’t stop. My own hands shake with anger, but I swallow it down, focus on her.
“Come on,” I murmur, slipping my arm around her.
She doesn’t resist as I pull her close, tucking her head against my chest, letting my jacket hide her face from the room.
I guide her through the cluster of guests, past whispers and judgment, past Jason’s satisfied smirk.
I want to hit him. Instead, I keep walking, shielding Mia, getting her away from the storm.
We find an empty corridor. The din of voices fades behind us. She clings to me, her breathing ragged. I hold her tighter.
“You don’t believe I leaked the story, right?” she finally whispers, voice breaking. The pain in her words cuts through everything else. She’s not thinking about her reputation, or the guests, or even Sarah. She’s thinking about us.
The weight of that trust nearly floors me.
“Not at all,” I say, gentle but firm. “Not for a second, Mia. We know you. We know who you are.” I run a hand through her hair, waiting for her to steady. “You’re the only one in this whole damn circus who’s tried to do the right thing.”
She sniffles, pulling back enough to search my face, needing to see the truth in my eyes. “But the foundation…the news, the accounts—what is even happening? How did it get so bad?”
I sigh, scrubbing a hand over my face. “The scandal…it’s complicated.
Our foundation takes in millions every year—grants, donations, charity events.
We’ve always kept things clean, checked and double-checked by outside auditors.
But a few months ago, Marcus started noticing small transfers—money going out in amounts too minor for regular board approval, always routed through holding companies.
The numbers added up. He flagged it, but then Alexander got a letter from an anonymous ‘concerned donor,’ hinting at irregularities.
A week later, some files went missing from the accountant’s office. ”
She listens, wide-eyed, hanging on every word.
“I thought it was an inside job, some bored staffer padding a retirement account, but then the story leaked to that blogger. They twisted it—made it sound like we’ve been siphoning funds ourselves, not trying to stop it.
And now, with all the timing and the noise, it looks like we’re the guilty ones. ”
Mia nods slowly, her fingers gripping my jacket. “Jason’s behind it, isn’t he?”
I don’t hesitate. “Yeah. I can’t prove it—not yet. But I’d bet everything I own that he orchestrated this. He wants us out. He wants Sarah to turn her back on us. Then he gets her, and he gets the company.”
She closes her eyes, breathing deep. “I’m sorry, Tyler. I’m sorry for all of it.”
We sit together on a bench, Mia curled up against me, her head resting on my shoulder. I stroke her hair, trying to soothe her, still furious at the world on her behalf. I wish we could stay hidden here, just the two of us, but the quiet doesn’t last.
Suddenly, loud voices erupt from the lobby. There’s the unmistakable sound of doors banging open, suitcases clattering, and a man barking orders. I let out a tired groan. “What now?”
Mia sits up too, wiping her face, tension knotting her shoulders. “Should we go see?”
Before I can answer, a tall, broad-shouldered man strides into the hallway. His presence fills the space instantly.
Jarrod Coines.
Mia’s father.
He’s not alone; staff scurry around him, trying to keep up as he barrels forward, eyes scanning for trouble.
He spots us at once. His gaze lands on Mia, softening for half a second. Then he sees me, and the concern is immediately replaced with cold, hard suspicion.
“Tyler,” Jarrod booms, voice echoing down the corridor, “what the hell is going on?”
I meet his stare, pulse spiking, trying to keep my tone even. “Which part?”
Jarrod doesn’t blink. His eyes go from me to Mia—her face blotchy, eyes rimmed red, still curled in on herself. The lines in his face tighten. I stand and move a few steps away, giving her space, but it’s too late; I know he saw the way she clung to me.
Jarrod notices everything. Always has.
He folds his arms, broad shoulders blocking half the light behind him.
“You think I’m in the mood for jokes? I just landed after the worst red-eye of my life, walk into this lodge, and find my daughter crying in the lobby, the staff saying there’s some kind of mess at the wedding.
And today on my TV, I see that my business partners are being accused of embezzlement and theft from the foundation they set up for their niece. ”
I groan. “I can explain.”
“You better,” he growls, before turning his gaze to Mia, his tone shifting as he softens just a little. “Princess, you okay?”
Mia hesitates only a second before rushing straight into his arms. He wraps her up tight, tucking her against his chest the way I imagine he did when she was a little girl. Her shoulders shake, tears finally breaking loose again, and Jarrod just holds her, muttering reassurances into her hair.
He glances over Mia’s head, pinning me with a look that makes it clear he expects answers and he expects them now.
I take a shaky breath, wishing things had gone differently, wishing I could spare Mia this scene. “It’s not what you think,” I start, voice low. “But you need to hear everything, and you need to hear it from us.”
Jarrod doesn’t let go of Mia, but his jaw sets. “You’ve got one chance, Tyler. Don’t waste it.”
I nod, glancing at Mia, who pulls back just enough to wipe her eyes, still clinging to her father’s jacket. I see the trust she has for him—and the fear. For a moment, I’m just grateful he’s here, even if it means facing everything head-on.
The tension in the corridor is thick enough to choke on.
Jarrod still has his arms around Mia, his eyes never leaving mine, demanding answers I’m not sure how to give.
Just then, I hear the hurried footfalls of Marcus and Alexander.
They come around the corner, both looking tired, drawn, and ready for war.
Alexander nods curtly to Jarrod, years of friendship and rivalry in his stiff posture. “Jarrod, let’s move somewhere private. This isn’t a conversation for the hallway.”
Jarrod gives him a curt nod, then turns and leads us into a small lounge just off the main corridor, closing the door behind us. The room is cozy—plush chairs, heavy curtains, a faint scent of wood polish—but the mood is anything but comfortable.
Marcus stands by the window, arms crossed. Alexander drops into a chair, posture rigid. I stand close to Mia, not trusting myself to sit. Jarrod finally lets Mia go, but not before giving her one last squeeze. He turns on the three of us, eyes blazing.
“All right,” he says. “Talk. Now.”
Marcus starts, explaining about the money trail, the suspicious transfers, how he discovered small amounts siphoned out of the foundation months ago.
Alexander jumps in, describing the anonymous tip, the missing files, the timing of the scandal.
I add what I know about the blog, the staff gossip, the way everything built to this ugly mess.
We try to make him see that Jason is at the center of it, manipulating everything and everyone, setting us up for this disaster.
But Jarrod doesn’t look convinced. His jaw is clenched so tight I can see the muscle in his cheek twitch. He paces back and forth, one hand running through his hair, the other gripping his phone.
He rounds on Marcus. “You’re telling me you let this go for months? You didn’t come to me, you didn’t call the board, you just…waited?”
Alexander cuts in, voice strained. “We wanted proof before we brought it to you. We thought we could handle it, Jarrod.”
“That’s always your problem,” Jarrod snaps. “Thinking you can handle everything. Well, look around—did you handle it? Because from where I’m standing, this looks like total failure.”
I flinch. Mia, who’s been sitting quietly, tries to speak up, her voice trembling but determined. “Dad, please, it isn’t their fault—”
He cuts her off, sharper than I’ve ever heard. “Mia, stay out of this. Let the adults handle it.”
She stiffens. My fists clench. I step forward, unable to help myself. “Back off, Jarrod. She’s trying to help. She’s been in the middle of this since the start. She’s risked more than any of us.”
He swings his gaze to me, nostrils flaring.
“You think I don’t see what’s going on? You think I missed you two in the hallway?
My daughter clinging to you like you’re her lifeline?
” His eyes flick to Alexander and then to Mia, his frown deepening when he sees her hand slip over Alexander’s. Protective, familiar.
The air in the room chills. The realization hits Jarrod, and I watch the anger rise even higher. “Are you kidding me? You—my business partners, my friends—what have you gotten my daughter mixed up in?”
Alexander goes rigid, but Mia shakes her head, voice tight. “You’re not listening—”
“I’m listening just fine,” Jarrod snaps. “I see what’s happening. I see all of it. And it’s going to stop right now.”
His fists are clenched, his face flushed with anger. He looks at each of us—the three men he once trusted most—and then at Mia, who won’t let go of Alexander’s hand.
His voice is dangerously quiet. “Do any of you realize how insane this is? Do you know how old Mia is? She’s young enough to be your daughter.”
Alexander tries to speak, but Jarrod barrels on, voice rising. “You’re supposed to be protecting her. Instead, you drag her into this mess, this scandal—whatever’s going on between the three of you, it’s not right.”
Mia pulls herself up, chin trembling. “I’m not a child, Dad.”