Page 26 of Broken Blades

Except the photograph said otherwise. The photograph said I'd let a man touch me in the dark. That I'd wanted it. That I was the kind of girl who disappeared from family events to do exactly this.

"My dress tore," I managed. "He was just—he helped me fix it."

"Who is he?"

"I don't know."

My father's expression went colder. "You don't know."

"He didn't tell me his name. I thought he was a player. I didn't… I don't think he told me his name. I didn't think⁠—"

"Clearly."

The word landed like a slap.

I stared at the phone screen. At the version of myself I didn't recognize. The girl who looked reckless. Experienced. Like she knew exactly what she was doing when she let strange men touch her spine.

"The merger meeting is in six hours." My father's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. "Investors. Board members. My new partner's entire executive team."

I looked up sharply.

He nodded once. "Yes. They've all seen it."

The room felt too small suddenly. Too warm. Like the walls were pressing in and stealing oxygen.

My thumb moved on autopilot. Scrolling. Finding worse.

The headline punched me in the chest:

"Serpents Veteran Caught in Secret Rendezvous with CEO's Daughter."

My vision blurred at the edges. I scrolled again, desperate for context that would make this make sense.

Another article loaded.

"Is This the Real Reason for Tension Between Wyatt Garrison and Thomas Harrington?"

Wyatt Garrison.

The name hit like a fist.

The ringing started in my ears. High-pitched. Persistent. Drowning out everything except the thunder of my pulse.

"I—that's not⁠—"

The words died. Useless. What could I possibly say that the photograph hadn't already screamed louder?

My father stood perfectly still. Waiting. The kind of stillness that preceded verdicts.

"What happened?" he asked again. A demand for facts.

I scrambled for them. Grabbed at details like lifelines. "Like I said, my dress caught on the hedge. The fabric pulled and the zipper—it broke. It just slid down and I couldn't reach it." The words tumbled faster. "I tried but I couldn't get it and he was there and I panicked and he just—he helped. That's all. He zipped it back up and then there were flashes and he left and I came back inside." My voice cracked on the last word.

My father studied me. Really looked.

I forced myself to meet his eyes. Let him see everything. The confusion. The humiliation. The fear crawling up my throat. "Nothing happened."

Two words. Steady as I could make them.