Page 15 of Daddy's Accidental Babies

Still, the words left me before I could stop them. “Let’s not pretend today didn’t happen, Savannah.” It was my attempt to show her that maybe there was a spark here we should’ve investigated years ago.

She turned over her shoulder and frowned at me, pausing with her hand on the doorknob. “You can ‘not pretend’ if you want. But if something goes sideways, remember you kissed me first.”

“Does that mean you’ll go along with the plan?” I asked, not even a little hopeful that she’d actually do it. I waited for an answer, but she turned and heaved out a sigh.

Then she walked out, leaving me on the bed with nothing but the echo of her voice and the memory of her skin on mine lingering.

7

SAVANNAH

It had been a few days since I officially stepped into the strategist role at Raven & Rhodes, and the routines were finally beginning to settle. I’d found my rhythm—mostly. Mornings were still chaotic with the boys, and I hadn’t yet figured out how to balance pre-K drop-off with boardroom prep now that Thea was in full swing with her college course, but I was holding it together—barely.

So when I sat down with a fresh cup of coffee and a clean task list, I wasn’t expecting my inbox to implode.

I opened my inbox and blinked at the subject line, then clicked it before my coffee even hit the desk. A joint press feature with Dominic Knight. A full-color, high-profile layout inBusiness Luxe’s spring issue, complete with bios, quotes, and a cover shoot. My hand tightened around the to-go cup, the lid giving a warning creak as I stared at the screen, rereading the email’s subject line three times to make sure it wasn’t some mistake.

It wasn’t.

My name—Savannah Bennett—was right there beneath his name, listed as the company strategist and a featured face ofRaven & Rhodes. That part didn’t bother me—I’d worked hard to earn it. What did was the second line:Romantic chemistry off the charts—are they more than just colleagues?

I had explicitly told Dominic I needed time to think about the joint publicity piece when Vanessa floated it last week. We hadn’t talked about it since. There was no follow-up, no push, no approval on my end. And yet here it was, a done deal.

The coffee did spill after all—just a splash on the desk edge—but I didn’t bother wiping it up. My eyes were still locked on the screen. That headline wasn’t just a speculative clickbait teaser; it was a setup. A narrative I never agreed to. This wasn’t about a press feature highlighting my role. This was something I’d never be able to walk back once it was out there. My personal life on display.

By the time the heat crawled up the back of my neck, I was already halfway down the hall. My pulse buzzed in my ears as I crossed the floor, fury rising with every step.

I didn’t knock—I pushed the door open and stepped inside, doing my best to look composed even though my chest was tight and my hands weren’t entirely steady. Vanessa glanced up from her keyboard, unfazed as always, and I squared my shoulders to meet her stare head-on.

She didn’t even flinch. Her perfectly manicured nails tapped across her keyboard as she stared at me. “Savannah. To what do I owe the?—”

“You pushed this through without asking me. I told you I needed time to think about it, and instead, I found out from an email that you went live with it. I never signed off. What were you thinking?” My chest heaved with adrenaline and beneath that, anger.

Vanessa sat back, folding her hands in front of her with an air of calm that only made me angrier. “Because Raven & Rhodes’ board wanted it. And the media team ran the metrics. You andDominic? You’re a wildfire. The merger announcement barely moved the needle. But your name on the strategist line? Click-throughs doubled. Public interest in Dominic spiked 60 percent the moment people realized he had a human counterpart.”

My pulse thudded, but I didn’t back down. The numbers didn’t justify making decisions behind my back. “That doesn’t mean I gave permission.” I was livid. Even if they gave me a bonus and a pay raise, an extra week of vacation and my own department, I still wouldn’t be okay with them moving forward without myyes.

“You didn’t say no.” One plucked-thin eyebrow rose as her lips pursed into a perfect pout while I felt my fingers curling into fists. She was manipulative, and from what I could tell, it was all to make Dominic look good. It was her job, after all.

“I said I needed to think about it,” I said through gritted teeth. I knew this look of anger wasn’t exactly the image they wanted me to portray, but I knew if they were to set up a photo op right now, I’d never be able to maintain a fake smile.

She smiled—tight, PR friendly. “And you took too long.” Her head tipped to one side while her brows peaked in the center.

I stared at her. Vanessa had never pretended to be anything other than efficient, ruthless, and excellent at her job. But this—this cavalier disregard for my input—was more than strategic maneuvering. It was rude.

“This is going to backfire,” I snipped. I started to turn, but she was quick on her heels with a reply.

“No. This is going to build trust. And your name is already trending. Play it right and you come out of this with serious credibility—not just inside Raven & Rhodes, but across the boardroom scene. You wanted to be taken seriously again? This is how it happens.”

I left before I said something I’d regret. I hated that her words held an ounce of truth at all. I was disgusted—furious—and there was nothing I could do about it.

Back at my desk, I skipped lunch without even noticing. The half-eaten granola bar in my drawer from breakfast stayed wrapped, the lukewarm coffee untouched. I opened my tablet, pulled up the rebranding briefs, and tried to work through the talking points for the next rollout campaign, but my brain refused to cooperate. Every word I read blurred into the next. Every headline I skimmed brought me back to the one I couldn’t unsee.

They weren’t just planning to use me—they were scripting me. And now I was expected to sell that script to the public. All for him.

By two o’clock, I was still at my desk, reviewing rollout language and making precision edits to campaign copy. I refused to give Vanessa—or anyone else—the satisfaction of seeing me flustered. I was still angry, but I channeled it the only way I knew how: through focus, structure, and control. The file was spotless by the time I moved to the next, but I kept going anyway, determined to keep working until the anger dulled into something manageable.

I rubbed the back of my neck, willing the heat there to cool. No matter how hard I worked or how carefully I built this second chance, it could all be undone with a storyline I never agreed to—and a secret I wasn’t ready to reveal.

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