Page 34 of Broken Blades

Everything her father had promised her.

I let my expression soften. Just enough. Sympathetic. Understanding. The mask of someone who genuinely wanted to help instead of someone carefully tightening the noose.

"That would be unfortunate."

The understatement hung between us. Delicate. Poisonous.

Harrington's hands flattened against the table again. Knuckles white. Voice dropping to something dangerous and quiet. "What. Do. You. Want."

Each word separated. Precise. The question of a man who knew he was cornered but hadn't surrendered yet. Who understood negotiation enough to recognize when the other party held all the leverage but refused to give ground without fighting for it.

I smiled. Finally. The real conversation could begin.

I straightened in my chair. Let my shoulders settle. Let the casual mask drop just enough that both of them could see the steel underneath.

No more circling. Time to strike.

"Here's what's going to happen."

Harrington's shoulders went rigid. Every muscle in his body coiling tight. Preparing for impact he couldn't see coming yet but knew would hurt.

I kept my voice level. Conversational. Like I was proposing a business arrangement instead of detonating his world.

"You want this fixed?" Didn't wait for an answer. "One month."

The number dropped between us. Specific. Finite. Just long enough to sound reasonable. Just short enough to make him think he could survive it.

Silence stretched. Heavy. Suffocating.

I let it sit there. Let them both absorb the implication before I delivered the rest.

"She stays with me."

Chastity blinked. Rapid. Confused. Like her brain couldn't process what I'd just said. Like the words didn't arrange themselves into any pattern that made sense.

Harrington froze completely. Every line in his body going statue-still. Face draining of color before flushing dark with barely controlled rage.

I didn't rush. Didn't fill the silence. Just watched them both unravel in their separate ways.

Then I added the final piece. "And publicly?" Beat. "We're together."

The words settled into the room like smoke. Thick. Invasive. Impossible to ignore or push away.

Chastity exploded. "WHAT? Absolutely not."

She shot to her feet. Chair scraping loudly against polished floor. Hands braced against the table edge like she needed something solid to keep from flying apart completely.

"You can't just—I'm not—This is insane." Her voice pitched higher. Frantic. Disbelief warring with outrage warring with genuine panic. Color flooded her cheeks. Eyes blazing. Every inch of her radiating rejection.

I didn't raise my voice. Didn't look at her yet. Just watched Harrington. Watched his jaw clench so hard I could see the muscle jump. Watched his breathing go shallow and controlled. Watched him calculate odds and consequences and exactly how much damage I could do if he refused. Watched him realize he had no choice.

"It would explain the picture," I said. "Maybe we paint it as star-crossed, really lean into the romance. People eat that shit up."

"Absolutely no—" She was interrupted before she could finish her sentence.

"Sit down."

Harrington’s voice came out sharp. Authoritative. The tone he probably used in boardrooms when subordinates forgot their place.