Page 155 of Broken Blades

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?"