Page 48 of Stealing Daddy's Heart

I can't finish the thought. All the what-ifs swirl in my head, threatening to overwhelm me.

Garrett takes a deep breath; I feel his chest rise and fall against me. He presses a kiss to my forehead, and I close my eyes at the tender gesture.

“Don't worry, babygirl. He'll come around.”

I nod, wanting to believe him, but the knot in my stomach doesn't ease. He has to come around, I think to myself. But will he?

“I'm not walking away from you, Skylar. Not now, not ever,” Garrett says, his voice firm but gentle.

His words wrap around me like a warm blanket, offering comfort and strength. Yet, I can't shake the bittersweet taste in my mouth. Loving Garrett feels right, feels perfect, but the cost of that love looms large.

“What now?” I ask, hating how small my voice sounds.

Garrett's jaw tightens with determination. “Now, we stand our ground. We show your father, and anyone else who doubts us, that our love is real and worth fighting for.”

“And the Scarpettas?”

“We deal with the threat head-on. No more hiding, no more playing defense. It's time we take control of this situation.”

“You mean go after them? Is that even possible?”

“It won't be easy,” Garrett admits, his eyes hardening with determination. “But I've got contacts, resources. We can build a case against them, expose their operations.”

As Garrett pulls me close again, I can feel the steady beat of his heart against my chest. Although we've declared our love, there's no time for romantic bliss.

We are gearing up for a fight that could cost us everything—my relationship with my father, Garrett's career, maybe even our safety.

Love, it turns out, isn't just about soft emotions and tender moments. Sometimes, it's about finding the strength to stand up and fight for what matters most, even when the odds are stacked against you.

Chapter 15

Garrett

I enter the Riverside building,surveying the bustling main floor that will soon host Skylar's art show. My jaw still aches from George's punch last night, a constant reminder of the confrontation that changed everything.

Skylar's across the room, directing a group of workers as they adjust a towering sculpture. Her eyes meet mine, and she smiles, but there's a shadow behind it, a remnant of last night's storm.

I approach her, feeling the soft leather of my jacket brush against my arm as I wrap it around her waist.

“Any word from Dad?”

I shake my head. “He hasn't come into the office. I've tried calling, but it goes straight to voicemail.”

Skylar's face falls, and I can see the worry etched in her features. “Do you think he's okay?”

“He's probably just processing everything,” I reassure her, though I'm not entirely convinced. “George always needed time to cool off after big arguments.”

She nods, but I can see the worry lingering in her eyes. I press a soft kiss to her forehead, wishing I could take away all her fears.

“There are only three days left before the big show. Let's focus on today, okay? Nothing is going to overshadow that.”

Skylar takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. “You're right.”

I look around the gallery, taking in the incredible transformation that's taken place. The space is almost unrecognizable from the empty shell it was a few weeks ago.

“You're staring,” Skylar says, a hint of amusement in her voice.

I chuckle. “Can you blame me?”

---