Savannah couldn't sleep.
Even with the guest room's blackout curtains drawn tight, the shadows kept shifting, crawling across her skin like whispers. The ring on her finger felt too heavy. The silence too loud.
She sat upright in the bed, the cold sheets tangled around her legs. Her heart hadn't stopped racing since Julian handed her that file the photo of her mother, alive. Not a memory. Not a dream. Alive.
Thirteen years of believing Elena Hale was dead.
Buried. Gone.
A lie.
The door creaked.
Savannah snapped her gaze toward it, already on edge, but it was Julian. No tie. No jacket. Just loose grey joggers and a black shirt that clung to his frame like shadow. He looked like he hadn't slept either.
"Didn't mean to wake you," he said softly.
"You didn't." She hesitated, voice rough. "I couldn't stop thinking."
Julian leaned against the doorframe. "About your mother?"
She gave a hollow laugh. "Take your pick. My mother, the marriage, Damien, the fact that my entire life is a lie—I've got plenty of content."
He moved into the room slowly, careful not to push her boundaries. "I should've told you sooner."
"You think?" She looked up at him, eyes tired. "I married a man who knew my mother might still be alive and said nothing."
Julian nodded once, accepting the blow. "I didn't want to say anything until I had proof. What if it wasn't her? What if I gave you hope for nothing?"
"You didn't give me hope," Savannah said. "You gave me more questions. And now I can't tell what's real anymore."
He stepped closer, crouching beside the bed. "I never lied to you. I hid things, yes. But I never lied."
Her eyes searched his, finding nothing but honesty—and regret. Real. Tangible.
That scared her more than anything.
"You said this marriage was to protect me," she whispered. "But is that all it is?"
A beat of silence.
Then: "No."
Her breath caught.
"I told myself it was strategy," Julian murmured. "That if I married you, I could keep you safe. Control the damage. Control the headlines."
"But?"
He exhaled, eyes dark and raw. "But I haven't been in control since the moment you walked into my building and called me a fraud."
Despite herself, a smile tugged at her lips. "You were smug as hell."
"I was intrigued. Annoyed. A little aroused."
Savannah arched a brow. "Wow. Romance really is dead."
"No," he said. "It's just terrified."
He stood and offered a hand. "Come with me."
"To where?"
"Trust me."
She hesitated, then slid her fingers into his. Warmth. Strength. A pulse she wasn't ready to name.
He led her through the dim hallway, into the main room of the safehouse where the fireplace still glowed. Julian pressed a hidden panel near the bookshelf. With a mechanical hiss, the wall slid open.
Behind it—a secure steel door and a biometric pad.
"You're showing me your Batcave?" Savannah teased, trying to lighten the moment.
He didn't smile. "I'm showing you everything."
The scanner beeped as he pressed his thumb to the pad. The door unlocked, revealing a narrow passageway and a sleek underground archive. The walls were lined with files, photos, safes.
Savannah stepped inside, heart racing. "What is this?"
"Everything my father, and then Damien, tried to bury. I've been collecting it for years. I just didn't know how much of it was connected to you… until now."
He walked to a locked drawer and pulled out a thick envelope.
Inside were letters.
Her mother's handwriting.
Savannah stared at them, breath caught in her throat. Dated three years after Elena's supposed death. Addressed to… Margot Hale.
"Aunt Margot was hiding her," Savannah whispered. "She knew."
"Your mother didn't die," Julian confirmed. "She went into hiding. And I think it has something to do with The Hale Initiative."
Savannah swallowed. "What the hell is that?"
Julian glanced at her. "Something buried even deeper than what I've uncovered. All I know is that it was a joint operation between the Hale family and my father's old circle. Something massive. Something they tried to erase."
Savannah's hands shook as she touched the paper. "She was protecting me."
Julian nodded. "And someone didn't want her found."
Savannah closed her eyes, the truth crashing over her like a wave. "I need to find her."
"You will," he said. "We will. But Savannah—there's something else."
He pulled out a USB stick and set it gently on the table. "I decrypted part of the drive you found. And there's a name on it you need to see."
She plugged it into the tablet, scrolling through the classified files. Her eyes widened.
The name wasn't her mother's. Or Margot's.
It was Ava Jennings.
Her best friend.
Savannah's fingers went cold. "No… That can't be right. Ava wouldn't—she's not part of this."
Julian's voice was cautious. "Maybe she's not. But she's mentioned. Repeatedly. In documents that link her to a shell account—one Damien controls."
Savannah's mind reeled. "She's been with me through everything. My lowest points. My break from the Hale family. She was there."
"Which is exactly why Damien would want her close to you."
Savannah clutched the table. "This doesn't make sense."
Julian's hand settled on her back. "Then let's find out the truth. All of it."
She turned to him, wide-eyed. "What if Ava's been lying this whole time?"
"Then you'll do what you always do." His voice was soft. Fierce. "You'll uncover the truth—even if it burns."
Savannah looked down at her ring again.
This wasn't just a marriage of convenience anymore.
This was war.
And she had no intention of losing.
Savannah stared at Ava's name glowing on the screen. The letters blurred as a chill slid down her spine, followed by a heat she couldn't place—part betrayal, part disbelief.
No.
Not Ava.
She would've known.
She clicked deeper into the file, pulling up transaction records, encrypted messages, and one name that appeared again and again next to Ava's:
Lucian West.
Savannah's brows drew together. "Lucian West…?"
Julian turned the tablet toward him, mouth tightening. "He's a data broker. Specializes in digital blackmail, asset concealment, and… manipulation."
"You think Ava's working with him?"
"I think she might not know she is," Julian said. "It's possible Damien used her. Used her connection to you."
Savannah swallowed hard. "Ava's smart. She doesn't get used."
Julian stepped closer. "That's what worries me."
She looked up at him, her voice shaking. "I have to confront her."
"Not yet."
"Julian—"
"Not. Yet." His tone softened. "You said it yourself—she's your best friend. If she's innocent, confronting her without answers will destroy that trust. And if she's not…" His eyes hardened. "We need leverage."
Savannah turned away, teeth sinking into her lip. "You think she could've been feeding Damien information this whole time?"
"I think it's possible," Julian admitted. "She knew where you lived. Where you'd be. She even knew when you got the tip about my company."
Savannah's chest caved inward. "No. She wouldn't… She was with me the night I left my father's estate. She covered for me."
"And people like Damien find the cracks," he said gently. "They don't need to turn someone evil. They just need a reason. A weakness."
Savannah nodded slowly, her mind unraveling the threads. "I need to see her. Tomorrow. I'll set up a meeting and act like nothing's wrong."
"I'll have someone nearby in case it goes sideways," Julian said.
She shot him a sharp look. "You're not planting trackers on her, are you?"
"No," he said. "I don't trust her. But I trust you. And you said she matters."
Savannah let out a breath. "She does."
Julian stepped closer, brushing a knuckle lightly along her jaw. "So do you."
The air shifted.
For a moment, the files, the conspiracy, the fear they all fell away.
"I don't know who to trust anymore," she whispered.
"Start with yourself." He paused. "Then maybe… me."
Their eyes locked. And for once, she didn't look away.
"I'll meet Ava at the café on 12th and Broome," Savannah said finally. "It's public. Neutral."
"I'll arrange backup, but I won't interfere unless it turns ugly."
She nodded.
The clock on the wall read 3:12 a.m.
Julian touched her wrist gently. "Get some sleep. You'll need it."
Savannah didn't sleep, not really. But as she lay back down, she finally closed her eyes.
And the ring on her finger, for the first time, didn't feel like a trap.
It felt like armor.
****
The sky was grey, and so was Savannah's mood.
She sat at an outside corner table, sunglasses on, nursing a black coffee. Her hands were steady, but inside, her pulse was wild. Every passerby looked suspicious. Every minute stretched too long.
Then she saw her.
Ava.
Wrapped in a cream trench coat, sunglasses atop her head, face flushed from the cold. She looked exactly the same.
Normal.
Familiar.
Innocent.
"Hey, stranger," Ava said as she slid into the chair across from her. "You look like you haven't slept since the Cold War."
Savannah managed a smile. "Something like that."
Ava tilted her head. "You okay?"
"I'm married," Savannah blurted.
Ava's mouth dropped open. "You're what?!"
Savannah reached out her left hand, showing the ring.
Ava's eyes widened. "Julian?"
"Julian."
Ava let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-choke. "Okay, you really need to start giving me warning before you drop bombs like this."
"I couldn't tell anyone," Savannah said. "It wasn't… normal."
"Are you safe?" Ava asked immediately, her smile fading. "Like, really safe? Because this is the guy whose building burned down the night you were there, remember?"
Savannah studied her best friend's face, looking for cracks. "He saved me."
"That doesn't mean you owe him your last name."
Savannah sipped her coffee. "Maybe I do. Maybe I owe him more than I want to admit."
Ava blinked. "Is that your heart talking, or your survival instincts?"
And there it was that hint of insight only Ava ever had. That line between friend and interrogator, between caring and curious.
"I don't know yet," Savannah replied carefully. "But I trust him."
Ava leaned back, hands wrapped around her mug. "Well, damn. I never thought I'd see you wearing anyone's ring again."
"Yeah," Savannah said softly. "Me neither."
A tense pause followed.
Savannah made her move.
"I've been thinking about when I left the estate. That night I ran. You helped me disappear."
Ava smiled faintly. "You were a storm, Vanna. I just held the umbrella."
"Did anyone ever ask about it?" Savannah pressed gently. "After I left. Did anyone try to contact you?"
Ava shrugged. "Your father's people, maybe once or twice. But I kept your secret. Why?"
Savannah's stomach turned. If she was lying, she was doing it flawlessly.
But then Ava reached into her coat pocket and handed Savannah a crumpled envelope.
"I found this on my windshield two nights ago," she said. "No name. No return address. Thought it might be another warning."
Savannah opened it.
Inside—nothing but a note.
"She's alive."
And beneath it, a grainy photograph.
Of Elena Hale.
Savannah's hand tightened around the paper.
She looked up. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Ava hesitated. "I didn't want to get your hopes up again. Not until I knew it was real."
"Did you tell anyone else about it?"
A pause. Then, "No."
Savannah watched her. Heart pounding.
If Ava was lying… she was good.
But if she was telling the truth…
Someone was playing both of them.
Back at the safehouse, Savannah laid the envelope on the table and looked at Julian.
"She gave it to me. No hesitation. No tells."
Julian frowned. "Either she's clean… or she's an excellent liar."
"Either way," Savannah said, "we're running out of time."
Julian reached into the safe and pulled out a new file. "Then it's time we go after the only person who knows where your mother is."
Savannah narrowed her eyes. "Who?"
Julian met her gaze.
"Lucian West."