Chapter 17 #2
"Don't forget who helped you get where you are," he said, standing too, his voice dropping to a threat. "Who introduced you to Doug? Who vouched for you with the board? You were nobody before I found you."
"I was somebody," I said quietly. "I just didn't know it yet."
"A country girl with big dreams and no connections. I made you relevant."
"No. I made myself relevant. You just took credit for it."
His face flushed ugly red. "People who forget where they came from tend to lose everything, Ivy. Dallas is a small world. One word from me—"
Wyatt's chair scraped back with a violence that made everyone jump. He stood slowly, deliberately, every muscle coiled for violence. "Finish that threat," he said quietly. "Please. Give me a reason."
Mark looked between us, and I saw the moment he understood—saw him realize that Wyatt wasn't some country bumpkin he could intimidate, but something far more dangerous. A man with nothing left to lose and everything to protect.
"This is a business discussion," Mark said, but his voice had gone high, scared.
"No," Wyatt said, moving around the table with the controlled grace of a predator. "This is you thinking you can come into our home, put your hands on her without permission, and threaten her career because your ego can't handle rejection."
"Wyatt," Owen warned, but there was no real censure in it.
"You should leave," Wyatt continued, now standing close enough to Mark that Mark had to look up to meet his eyes. "Now. Before I forget my manners entirely."
"Is that a threat?" Doug asked, standing too.
"It's a promise," Clay said, also rising. "We're particular about who we welcome at our table. And men who don't understand the word 'no' aren't welcome."
The room stood frozen, battle lines drawn—the Dallas contingent on one side, the Blackwoods on the other, me caught in the middle like a wishbone about to snap.
"The contract—" Doug started.
"The contract stands," Owen said firmly. "Ivy's work here has been exceptional. But if you think you can come here and disrespect her, disrespect us, you're mistaken."
"She's our employee—"
"She's under our protection while she's here," Louisa said, and her voice carried the kind of authority that came from raising seven kids and surviving worse than corporate sharks. "And we protect our own."
Mark's laugh was ugly. "Your own? She's not yours. She's mine. She just needs to remember that."
And that's when Wyatt hit him.
Not hard enough to do real damage, just a quick jab that sent Mark stumbling back, blood appearing on his lip.
"Wyatt!" I grabbed his arm before he could follow through.
"You hit me!" Mark sputtered, dabbing at his lip. "You all saw it! That's assault!"
"You assaulted her first," Maggie said calmly from the doorway, holding up her phone.
"Every unwanted touch, every time she pulled away, and you grabbed her again.
All recorded. Would you like me to send it to your company's HR department?
I'm sure they'd be very interested in how their executives behave on business trips. "
The threat landed. Mark's face went pale under his tan.
"This isn't over," Doug said, gathering his dignity like armor. "Ivy, you have forty-eight hours to return to Dallas or consider your contract terminated."
"Then I guess it's terminated," I said quietly.
The words surprised me as much as anyone. But standing there, with Wyatt's solid presence beside me, his family around me like a shield, I knew I meant it.
“You’re throwing away your career,” Doug said, his voice sharp enough to cut glass.
He pushed up from behind his desk and started pacing, the city skyline gleaming behind him through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“Do you have any idea what this looks like? You walking away now, right when we’re finalizing your partnership?
Christ, Ivy, the board’s been grooming you for this for years. ”
I stayed silent, arms crossed, watching the familiar performance—the disbelief, the irritation, the undercurrent of fear.
He kept going. “We’ve invested a lot in you. Time, money, reputation. You’re the name clients ask for. The reason we close half our contracts. And you’re seriously telling me you’re walking away from all of it—for a cowboy and a ranch that doesn’t even need your help?”
“It’s not about the ranch,” I said quietly.
“Then what?” he snapped, running a hand through his hair. “What could possibly be worth throwing this away? You’re at the top of your field, Ivy. The best in the industry. You could run this firm in five years if you stay the course.”
“Maybe that’s the problem,” I said, my voice low but steady. “I’m tired of running something that doesn’t matter to me anymore.”
Doug stopped pacing, staring at me like I’d just confessed a crime. “You’re making a mistake,” he said, the words flat with disbelief. “You walk away now, there’s no coming back. And all this for what? “
"For home," I said simply. "For people who value me, not just what I can do for them."
They left in a flurry of threats and slammed doors, the black SUV kicking up dust as it fled the ranch like they were being chased by demons.
Maybe they were.
We stood in the dining room, the beautiful lunch Louisa had made growing cold on the table.
"Well," Clay said finally, "that was better than cable TV."
The tension broke, everyone laughing or talking at once. But I could only look at Wyatt, who was staring at me like I'd just hung the moon.
"You chose us," he said quietly. "You chose to stay."
"Yeah," I said, my voice thick with tears I wouldn't let fall. "I chose home."
Mark's blood was still on his knuckles, but when he reached for my hand, I took it without hesitation.