“From me,” he said.

“Not from my father.” He twisted his gold cufflink with his thumb.

“Your father built the company,” I said.

“How does he feel about you paying me off?”

Wyatt’s jaw clenched, then relaxed.

“He did it on his own, Samantha.

The wires, the accounts, the paperwork.

I didn’t find out until after you’d left.”