Stealing Daddy’s Heart (Daddy’s Good Girl)

Chapter 14

Skylar

Something's different tonight. Dad's eyes narrowed when he was talking to Garrett, his words laced with an edge that made me flinch.

When I tried to lighten the mood, Dad would cut me off with a look that could freeze hell.

As the evening wore on, I noticed the careful way neither Dad nor Garrett would look at me directly.

Dad either knows about me and Garrett or he suspects something.

As the last plate clinks into the dishwasher, I dry my hands on a dishtowel, steeling myself for what's to come. Dad's distrust stings, but I can't blame him entirely.

We've been sneaking around, and that ends tonight. If this is going to blow up in our faces, I want it to be on my terms.

With determined steps, I make my way to Dad's library. My heart races, but I keep my chin high.

As I approach, I hear muffled voices growing louder, more heated.

They're arguing about me.

My fingers tremble as I reach for the doorknob. I hesitate for a moment, then push it open. The scene before me stops me cold.

Dad's fist slams into Garrett's jaw with a sickening thud. Garrett retaliates, shoving hard.

They stumble backward, crashing into a bookshelf with a thunderous rattle. Books rain down around them, pages fluttering like startled birds.

“What the hell is going on?” I demand, my voice shaking. “And don't you dare lie to me. This isn't about some business deal, is it?”

Dad wipes blood from his lip, his knuckles raw and red. Garrett straightens his shirt, wincing as he touches his rapidly swelling jaw.

“Skylar, honey, this is complicated—” Dad starts, but I cut him off.

“No. Don't 'honey' me. I'm not a child anymore, and I won't be treated like one.” I turn to Garrett, eyes blazing. “And you. I thought we were past the secrets.”

Garrett's jaw clenches. “Skylar, I?—”

“Save it,” I snap. “I want the truth. Now. Why were you really fighting?”

The silence stretches again, neither man willing to speak first. My frustration boils over.

“I'm standing right here!” I shout, my voice echoing off the library walls. “Stop acting like I'm some kid you need to whisper about behind closed doors. I deserve to know what's going on!”

I glare at them both, daring them to contradict me. “This is about us, isn't it?” I say, gesturing between myself and Garrett. “But there's more to it, isn't there? What aren't you telling me?”

Dad's face darkens, confirming my suspicion. Garrett's shoulders slump.

“Well?” I demand. “Am I right? Because if I am, you both owe me one hell of an explanation.”

Finally, Garrett speaks, his voice low and determined. “George, she needs to know. All of it.”

Dad's face contorts with a mix of anger and resignation. “Dammit, Garrett, we agreed?—”

“No.” Garrett cuts him off. “We didn't agree. You decided. But Skylar's right. She deserves to know the truth.”

I feel my heart racing, anticipation and dread warring inside me. “What truth?” I demand. “What have you been keeping from me?”

Dad gestures to the armchair. “Sit down, Skylar. This isn't going to be easy to hear.”

I sink into the leather armchair, my legs suddenly unsteady. Dad paces in front of me. Garrett leans against the bookshelf, his eyes never leaving me.

Dad runs a hand through his hair, defeat etched in every line of his face. “The mystery benefactor who is so interested in your work? It's not what it seems.”

Garrett steps forward, his eyes soft with concern. “The gallery deal, Skylar. The one that seemed too good to be true? It was. The Scarpettas are behind it.”

“Who?”I ask, confused. This involves me directly, but I have no idea what they are talking about.

“The Scarpetta family,” Dad says, his voice heavy. “They're dangerous, Skylar. Organized crime.”

The blood drains from my face, leaving me cold and dizzy. The room spins, and I grip the arms of the chair to steady myself. “I don’t understand. Why are they interested in me?”

“They're using you, Skylar,” Dad says softly, his eyes filled with regret. “The gallery, the benefactor–it's all a front. A carefully orchestrated charade. They're setting you up as leverage against us. Against me and Garrett.”

The pieces start falling into place—Garrett's constant presence, his overprotectiveness, the strange men I'd noticed lurking around the gallery. My stomach churns as I realize how blind I've been.

“You knew about this too, didn't you? That's why you've been keeping such a close watch on me,” I whisper, meeting Garrett's gaze. “All those times you looked worried, all those secretive phone calls. You could have told me!”

But even as the words leave my mouth, I feel a twinge of doubt. Deep down, I know it wasn't Garrett's place to tell me. This was Dad's responsibility, and he failed.

Garrett's face crumples with guilt. “Skylar, I wanted to tell you. But your father?—”

“No,” Dad admits, shame coloring his voice. “Garrett warned me but I brushed it off. I hoped nothing would happen.”

“You hoped? Dad, how could you?”

“It was a mistake. A terrible mistake.” Dad kneels in front of me, taking my hands in his. “Skylar, listen to me. We need to stop this. We need to get you out of danger before it's too late.”

“You lied to me, kept me in the dark,” I say, yanking my hands away from Dad's grasp.

Dad flinches, but I'm not done. “By keeping me in the dark, you've put me in more danger, not less.”

Dad and Garrett exchange guilty glances. The silence that follows is deafening.

I stand up abruptly, needing to something with this surge of energy coursing through me. The anger, the betrayal, the fear—it all swirls together, threatening to overwhelm me. But beneath it all, a seed of determination takes root.

I'm tired of being a pawn in someone else's game.

When I speak again, my voice is steadier.

“I want in,” I say, looking from Dad to Garrett and back again.

“What?” Dad asks, confusion etched on his face.

“I want in,” I repeat. “On everything. No more secrets, no more lies. If the Scarpettas want to use me, then I want to know exactly what we're up against and how we're going to fight back.”

Garrett straightens, a glimmer of pride in his eyes. “Skylar, it's dangerous?—”

“I know,” I cut him off. “But I'm already in danger, aren't I? At least this way, I can be prepared.”

Dad opens his mouth to protest, but I hold up my hand. “No, Dad. You don't get to make this decision for me. Not anymore.”

I turn to Dad, meeting his gaze head-on. My blue eyes, so like his, challenge him silently. “And while we're being honest, there's something else you need to know. I choose to be with Garrett. I understand you might not approve, but this is my decision to make. I'm in control of my own heart.”

My voice doesn't waver, and I feel a surge of pride at my own strength.

Dad's face flushes red. “Skylar, you can't be serious. He's?—”

“He's what, Dad? Too old? Too experienced? Too much like you?” I take Garrett's hand, intertwining our fingers. “We didn't plan this, but it happened. I'm not asking for your permission. I'm telling you how things are.”

Garrett stands, his presence steady and reassuring. “I never meant to hurt you, George, but I won't give her up. Skylar's right. What we have... It's not something we can ignore or push aside. I'll resign from the company if I have to, but I'm not walking away from her.”

Dad slams his hand on the table. “And what about our business, Garrett? What about everything we've built?”

“That doesn't change,” Garrett says firmly. “My feelings for Skylar don't negate my commitment to Apex or our friendship.”

Dad looks torn between anger and confusion. His eyes dart between Garrett and me, as if seeing us for the first time. Then his shoulders slump, the fight draining out of him.

“I need some time to process this.” He looks at Garrett, his expression unreadable. “We'll discuss this later.”

He turns to leave, pausing at the door. “Skylar, I'm sorry. For everything.” With that, he's gone, leaving a heavy silence in his wake.

As Dad leaves the room, I turn to Garrett, feeling drained but stronger. He opens his arms, and I collapse into his embrace,burying my face in his chest. The familiar scent of his cologne grounds me.

“That wasn't how I imagined this evening going,” I say, my voice muffled against his shirt.

“It was bound to happen sooner or later,” Garrett says softly, his thumb tracing circles on my back. “It was unavoidable. But are you okay?”

I laugh, but it comes out more like a sob. “I don't know. It's a lot to take in. The Scarpettas, the danger, us. All this time you knew.”

Garrett nods, eyes regretful. “I wanted to tell you, Skylar. Every time you shared your excitement, it killed me to hide the truth.”

I touch his face. “Must've been hard, protecting me without betraying Dad's trust.”

He leans in, eyes closing. “It was. But seeing you happy, chasing your dreams–that made it worthwhile. Even if I couldn't be fully honest.”

His words resonate deeply. Despite my earlier anger and hurt, I admire his strength and dedication to both Dad and me.

“No more secrets between us, okay? We're stronger when we're honest with each other.”

“No more secrets,” Garrett agrees, his arms encircling me. His chest expands against mine as he takes a deep breath.

I look up at him, my heart racing. “Did you mean what you said to Dad? About walking away from Apex if you had to?”

Garrett's eyes lock onto mine, unwavering and intense. “Every word. Skylar, you're more important to me than any job, any company. I love you. I have for a long time.”

The words hit me like a physical force. My heart stutters, then pounds against my ribcage. I've imagined this moment countless times, but reality trumps every fantasy.

The world narrows to just us, the warmth of his embrace, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my palm.

Heat blooms in my chest, radiating outward until it reaches my fingertips. My skin tingles where it touches his. But along with the warmth comes a twist of guilt and fear.

The weight of what we're risking—what Garrett's willing to give up—settles on my shoulders.

“I love you too,” I say, the words ringing with certainty.

This isn't some fleeting emotion or a reaction to the chaos swirling around us. It's solid. Real. Unshakeable. “But Garrett, Apex is your life's work. You built it with Dad. I can't ask you to give that up for me.”

Garrett's hands cup my face, his thumbs tracing my cheekbones. “You're not asking. I'm choosing. Apex is important, but you're essential. I never thought I'd find someone who sees me, all of me, and still chooses to stay.”

I lean into his touch, torn between elation and worry. “And I never thought I'd find someone who challenges me, protects me, and excites me all at once. But at what cost, Garrett? If we do this, I could lose my father. You could lose your best friend, your business partner.”

The reality of our situation crashes over me like a cold wave. The potential loss of my father's trust and affection sits like a stone in my stomach, heavy and immovable.

I've found love with Garrett, but it comes with a hefty price tag. But can I pursue this love if it means sacrificing everything else?

Garrett's arms tighten around me, and I feel his heart racing to match mine. “I know it's not simple, Skylar. But we can't deny what's between us. We'll find a way to make this work, to show your father that our love doesn't diminish what he means to either of us.”

I nod against his chest, wanting desperately to believe him. “And if we can't? If he never–?”

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.