Page 55 of Blake

Adrenaline coursed through Savannah’s veins.

This was it—her chance to confront her past, and maybe even gather information about the trafficking ring at the same time. She swallowed hard, steeling herself for what lay ahead.

"Here goes nothing," she whispered, raising a trembling hand to knock on the door.

For a moment, she paused. Blake’s stern face surfaced in her mind. But just this evening, he had promised her that she could be useful when the time was right. And the timewasright.

Right?

She remembered to put her phone on record then her knuckles rapped against the wood, each tap echoing like a drumbeat in her ears. Waiting for Marcus to answer, Savannah's mind raced with memories of her time spent in this house, the torment she and Mia had endured. But she couldn't let fear hold her back now. She was here for answers, and she refused to leave until she got them.

"Come on, you bastard," she muttered under her breath, her pulse quickening as the door creaked open.

"Hello, Savannah!" Marcus said, his gaze trailing down her body as he took in her crop top and hotpants. His voice was sickeningly sweet. "What a surprise."

Savannah swallowed away the bile that rose in her throat.

Marcus had changed a lot since she’d known him as a kid. His skin was gray now and looked paper-thin. He had huge dark circles under his eyes and some kind of sore over his mouth. Hewore a dressing gown over a tank top and jeans. Jeans, which Savannah noticed, were unbuttoned. Ew.

"Hi, Marcus," she replied, forcing a casual tone while trying to hide her disgust. "Long time, no see."

"Indeed," he agreed, stepping aside to let her in as she barged past him. "Come on in."

Savannah hesitated for a moment before crossing the threshold, her heart pounding in her chest. She was walking into the lion's den, but she couldn't back down now.

Marcus's sinister smile sent shivers down Savannah's spine as she stepped inside the dimly lit house. The walls seemed to close in on her, but she refused to let the familiar dread take hold. Instead, she focused on her purpose: finding answers.

“No foster kids around tonight?” she asked.

“Nope. Stopped doing that,” he replied gruffly.

“Busy doing other stuff now, eh?” asked Savannah, her tone pointed.

Marcus ignored her question. "Would you like some tea?" he asked, shuffling over to the kettle.

"Sure," Savannah responded, her tone guarded. She watched him closely as he moved to the kitchen, preparing the cups. Was this frail old man act for real?

A thousand questions swirled around in her mind, but she knew she had to choose them carefully.

"Your visit is quite unexpected, Savannah," Marcus said casually, handing her a steaming cup. "What brings you by, after all these years?"

"Can't a girl check in on her old foster father?" she retorted, forcing a smile and taking the cup from him.

"Of course," he replied, taking a seat across from her. "But I imagine there's more to it than that."

"Maybe I heard some rumors about your business dealings and wanted to see for myself if they were true," Savannah suggested, trying to appear nonchalant.

"Rumors, you say?" Marcus leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing slightly. "And what have you heard?"

“Do you remember Mia?” she asked suddenly.

"Ah yes," he sighed, feigning disappointment. "Poor Mia. Such a lovely girl. Shame about her . . . disappearance.”

Savannah gritted her teeth. “You heard about it then?”

Marcus nodded. “Oh, yes. She’d just moved back in with me when it happened.”

“She had?”

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