Page 38 of Wade’s Wrath

“No.” He stopped, and Harlow saw the surprise flash across his face. “I need five minutes by myself.”

His expression hardened. “Harlow.”

“I'm not going anywhere,” she promised.

“You sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” she breathed.

He clearly didn't like it, but after a few seconds, he nodded. “Five minutes.”

She almost smiled. “Still bossy.”

“Five minutes.” Harlow walked out before he could change his mind. She didn't go far. The clubhouse porch was empty, and that was enough. Harlow wrapped her arms around herself and stared across the gravel lot. Her father couldn't be involved—he just couldn’t be. Richard Kane was ruthless, controlling, and cold, but trafficking women and girls? No. She couldn't make herself believe it. Then again, yesterday morning she'd believed her father would eventually understand that she didn't want Frank. She'd believed if she begged hard enough, he'd call off the wedding. Instead, he'd told her to stop behaving like a spoiled child. Marriage wasn't about love; it was about legacy. Those had been his exact words, and they made Harlow feel sick.

The clubhouse door opened behind her. “That wasn't five minutes.” She didn't need to turn around. “Go away, Wade.”

“No,” he said.

“Do you ever listen?” she asked.

“Not really.” She heard his boots against the porch, and then he stopped beside her—not touching her, but just there. She appreciated that more than she wanted to.

“What if he knew?” she asked.

Wade didn't pretend not to understand. “Then we deal with it.”

“How?” she asked.

“One thing at a time,” he insisted.

She gave a humorless laugh. “Unwrap it?” He looked at her, and she remembered—"One piece at a time.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Something like that.”

“What if there's nothing left when I'm finished?”

Wade frowned. “What?”

“My life.” Her voice cracked. “My father controlled the money. The house I lived in belongs to one of his companies. My car is in his name. My phone was on his account. My credit cards⁠—”

“Harlow,” Wade said.

“Everything I thought was mine belonged to him,” she said.

“You've got yourself,” he reminded.

She laughed bitterly. “That doesn't pay rent.”

“You've got somewhere to live,” he reminded.

“Your house isn't mine,” she said.

“Didn't say it was.” She flinched, and Wade cursed. “That came out wrong.”

“No. You're right,” she said.

“That's not what I meant,” he said again.