Chapter 7
The pain hit like a blade straight through Savannah’s chest. For the first time, she hated herself for being too late–too weak.
She held her mother close, trying to keep her grounded as Helen trembled and sobbed like she was losing Emily all over again.
“Mom,” Savannah whispered, forcing her voice to stay calm. “It’s okay. Just four more days, and we’re gone. Just four.”
Everything from Silvergrove Estate was packed. She had no plans to look back. All she wanted now was to spend these last few days quietly with her mother.
But peace, as always, wasn’t something she was allowed to have.
A sudden pounding rattled the front door. Sharp and insistent.
Savannah opened it, only to find several towering bodyguards standing there in dark suits.
The color drained from her face.
She clenched her jaw. “What now? I already agreed to leave. Isn’t that enough for you people?”
The one in front didn’t even bother softening his tone. “Mr. Ford asked us to escort you to Miss Monroe’s birthday gala.
“After all, you two were once colleagues. She thought it’d be nice for you to attend.”
Savannah let out a cold laugh. “And if I decline?”
The man’s expression didn’t change. He simply waved his hand.
”
Two guards immediately stepped inside and grabbed Helen, who was seated on the couch, still weak from the cemetery incident.
“What the hell are you doing?” Savannah shouted, panic rising in her chest.
The lead guard didn’t blink. “If you won’t come, Mr. Ford said your mother will.”
Savannah’s eyes stung with sudden tears.
“Fine!” she snapped, voice raw. “I’ll go. Just let her go.‘
They called it an “invitation,” but it felt more like she was being dragged in chains.
As soon as she stepped out of the car, she saw them–Delilah, basking in the spotlight, clutching Julian’s arm like it gave her legitimacy.
Delilah wasn’t the plain, nervous girl she’d once known. Not anymore.
Her makeup was flawless. Her dress screamed money and designer exclusivity. Her every move was poised, practiced.
With Julian’s arm looped around her waist, she glided through the high–profile guests like she belonged there–like she owned the
room.
Julian’s gaze followed her like a spotlight, soft and indulgent, as if he were admiring a flower he’d nurtured with his own hands.
Savannah recognized that look. He used to give it to her. Back when he still loved her.
She hadn’t dressed for a party today–just thrown on something casual. Compared to the glittering gowns and tailored suits around her, she stuck out like a sore thumb.
And the whispers didn’t take long to start.
“She really showed up like that?”
“Must be desperate.”
“She’s got some nerve…”
Chapter 7
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Delilah stepped forward, lifting her skirt slightly as she walked with exaggerated grace. “Everyone, don’t be so harsh. Savannah and I may have had our differences, but we’ve moved past them.”
She smiled sweetly, leaning into Julian. “And besides, Julian and I are happily together now. No need for drama.”
Her tone was sugary, but her eyes sparkled with triumph.
Savannah’s throat tightened. She glanced at Julian.
He didn’t say a word. Didn’t correct anything.
Didn’t deny it.
Her fingers curled into fists.
She was ready to slip out, say nothing and leave–but Delilah leaned in closer, lowering her voice
“What’s the rush, Savannah? I got a little surprise for you.‘
There was something in her smile–too polished, too pleased.
Savannah’s stomach turned.
And then, without warning, the screen behind them lit up.
The music stopped.
And moans–filthy, loud, unmistakable–echoed through the grand hall.
A grainy video began to play.
Savannah’s heart stopped. Her blood ran cold.
It was Emily.
Emily and that man. The one from the clinic. In bed. Together.
Savannah’s entire body locked up, her lungs forgetting how to breathe.
The room spun. Someone gasped. Others were already whispering.
But all she could see–was her sister.
Exposed.
Violated.
Used.
And everyone was watching.
to
a
conspiratorial whisper.
Chapter 7
