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Chapter 3
Savannah accompanied her mother to Sunset Hills Crematorium, carrying her sicts ashes.
By the time it was done, Helen looked like she had aged a decade in a single afternoon. Her back hunched, her hands trembling as she
clutched the urn in silence.
Savannah’s heart twisted. The pain clawed at her ribs, relentless.
That’s when her phone buzzed.
A message from Julian.
[Pick up Delilah’s gown from the stylist within two hours and deliver it to the venue. She’ll send
Savannah almost laughed.
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Tears stung her eyes as she stared at the screen, her fingers twitching with the urge to block him. But instead, she typed two words: [Not available.]
Julian’s reply came fast. No words this time—just the same goddamn video of Emily.
The message was clear. A threat.
Savannah’s grip on the phone tightened until her knuckles turned bone white.
Helen glanced at the screen and instantly broke down.
“She’s already dead! What more does he want–her blood, her bones, what?!” her voice cracked, trembling with rage ph
Savannah pulled her into a hug, tears slipping down her own cheeks.
“Mom… please. Not now. I’ll go.”
“”
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“We only have seven days left,” she whispered. “We can’t risk blowing our cover before then.”
Delilah had sent over an address, vague and half–finished, like she wanted to make things difficult.
By the time Savannah figured it out, she was sprinting through backstreets, hair clinging to her forehead with sweat, barely making it in time.
Someone was already waiting outside.
From a distance, she spotted a man by the door–and the closer she got, the colder her blood ran.
No. It couldn’t be.
But it was.
That smug bastard. The one who’d raped her sister.
He noticed her, gave a lazy grin, and sauntered up like they were old friends.
“Ms. Doyle,” he smirked, arms casually spread. “Delilah said you’d be dropping by. Been out here forever–next time maybe try being on time, yeah?”
Savannah’s nails pressed hard into her palm. Every step closer made her stomach turn.
“You’re… on the guest list?” she asked, voice tight.
“Guest list?” He snorted. “Please. Delilah practically insisted. Said since I’m her client, I might as well ‘get some culture.‘ Her words, not mine.”
He twirled a finger at his suit jacket like he was on a damn red carpet.
Chapter 3
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“This little number? Custom–tailored. Courtesy of the CEO himself–guy’s got money to burn. Hell, I’ve got people dressing me now.”
Then he leaned in just slightly, lowering his voice like he was sharing some private joke.
“Delilah? She knows how to move up. Knows how to play the game. You, on the other hand…
He gave her a long, slow once–over.
”
“You and your sister both tried so hard to look expensive. Too bad trash still stinks, no ma
Every word landed like a slap.
Savannah’s hands trembled.
Her vision blurred with fury as she threw the gown at him like a weapon.
“You don’t get to talk about her. Not ever. >>
“You wanna see what I’m capable of? Keep running your mouth.”
She lunged at him, fists flying, but it didn’t take long for security to yank her back.
how you dress it up.”
Julian and Delilah appeared just then–Delilah’s arm wrapped tightly around his, her posture immaculate, her expression smug but slightly annoyed at the scene.
“Miss Doyle,” she said coolly, “who told you it was okay to assault my client?”
“You owe him an apology.”
Savannah let out a bitter laugh, the kind that sounded more like a scream stuck in her throat.
“He destroyed my sister. And you want me to apologize?”
Delilah’s gaze sharpened.
www
“You should be careful with your words,” she said flatly. “This case hasn’t gone to trial yet. Making accusations like that siander.”
Then she turned to Julian, releasing his arm with a show of fake humility.
“You should be the one to handle this. I’d rather not speak, since anything I say could seem biased.”
She lifted her chin, her expression pure, detached–as if she wasn’t the one who’d orchestrated this whole sick charade.
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Chapter 3
