Page 91 of Broken Blades

I heard myself speaking and nearly fainted. WHY WAS I SAYING THIS? WHAT WAS WRONG WITH ME? This was supposed to be fake. Performance. Strategy. But standing here defending him to the woman who'd destroyed him, defending him like he mattered, like we mattered, felt dangerously, devastatingly real.

Barbara's face changed.

The hostility didn't vanish completely, but it… softened. Shifted. Less venom, more surprise. Almost… respect? She studied me for a long moment. Assessed me the way investors assessed risk.

Then her gaze flicked to Wyatt.

Something passed between them—silent, loaded, years of history compressed into a single look.

When she spoke again, her tone had lost its razor edge. "You're either the best actress I've ever met…" She paused. "Or you actually believe what you just said."

I lifted my chin. "I meant it."

Barbara's mouth curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. Not friendly. Not warm. But not cruel either.

"Then you're braver than I thought." She adjusted her coat. "Or more foolish."

My hands moved before my brain caught up with what I was doing. The words came out soft, almost affectionate. "The kids are waiting."

I reached for his tie—straightened it even though it didn't need straightening. My fingers smoothed his collar, brushed invisible lint from his shoulders. The gestures were intimate. Familiar. The kind of thing a girlfriend did without thinking.

What was I doing?

I didn't know. Didn't care. Something about seeing him cornered by her, seeing that look on his face—exposed, vulnerable, wounded—made me want to… claim him. Protect him. Show her she didn't get to do this anymore.

I rose on my toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. His entire body locked. Froze like I'd electrocuted him. The kiss was soft. Brief. Nothing scandalous. But when I pulled back, lipstick marked his skin—a visible, unmistakable brand.

I wiped it away with my thumb. Slow. Deliberate. Let my fingers linger at his jaw.

Wyatt didn't breathe. Didn't move. Just stared at me with something dark and stunned and dangerous flickering behind his eyes.

Barbara blinked. Hard. Like she'd been slapped. Her perfect composure cracked just enough that I saw it—shock. Genuine, unfiltered shock.

Good.

I turned back to her, dropping my hand from Wyatt's face but keeping my body angled protectively between them. My voice came out calm. Crisp. Controlled in a way that surprised even me.

"You had no right to speak to him like that."

Barbara's eyebrows lifted. "Excuse me?"

"Wyatt's been nothing but kind to me." The words felt true even as I spoke them. Even knowing what this arrangement was. Even knowing he'd orchestrated everything. He had been kind. In his own complicated, damaged way.

Wyatt stiffened beside me. I felt it—the way my words hit him somewhere he hadn't expected.

Kind wasn't a word people used for him. But it was true. He'd protected me from cameras. From crowds. From inappropriate comments. He'd taught me how to survive this world without making me feel stupid. He'd never once made me feel small.

That was kindness.

Wasn't it?

I pressed on, my voice steady. "Whatever happened between you two? That's your past. It has nothing to do with us."

Us.

The word hung in the air like a challenge.

Barbara opened her mouth. Closed it. For the first time since I'd met her, she looked genuinely unsure of what to say.