Page 44 of Daddy's Accidental Babies

I lifted my eyes sheepishly to shake my head and look him in the eye again. I had no idea what this implied. My father wouldn’t stoop so low as to try to ruin my career by gaslighting me and Dominic over a fake relationship.

Marla’s words haunted me, but they didn’t have anything to do with this.

“I don’t understand,” I mumbled, and Graham clued me in immediately.

“Someone inside your father’s campaign is working with Marla to leak financial information about Knight Holdings and other damning things about Dominic’s personal life, Savannah. It appears your father is trying to sabotage this merger for some reason.”

His statement was a kick to the gut.

Dad wouldn’t do this. He couldn’t. That wasn’t how he operated at all, was it?

I backed away, now even more upset about this entire situation, and with no idea how to handle it. My father was pulling strings and twisting the knife…but why? And why hurt me in the process?

22

DOMINIC

When I was certain the reporters and camera crew were gone, I climbed out of my car and headed up to my office. Now midmorning, I had already missed a few other meetings and probably had dozens of emails to go through, but my mind wasn’t in the game. I’d have skipped work entirely if sending an email to Vanessa would’ve done the trick, but this had to be said in person.

She wasn’t in her office when I got there, so I let myself in and stood by the end of her desk looking out the small window she had on the north-facing side of the building. It was a gloomy day, like a lot of days in Seattle, but the city still lived and breathed. I watched the street below where a few kids scoot by on scooters, chased by a woman wearing yoga pants and headphones shouting at them.

When the door clicked open, I turned slowly to see Vanessa staring down at something in her hands. Her head rose slowly when I cleared my throat, and her calm expression shifted to a deep glower.

“Where were you?” she hissed, letting that glower devolve into a scowl. “You didn’t even show up? Dominic, thatinterview was golden. We could’ve been in tomorrow’s edition ofNewsweek.”

“I’m out, Vanessa. I’m not doing it anymore.” Sliding my hands into my pockets calmly, I planted my feet to show my confidence in this decision. It wasn’t about not wanting to be with Savannah or do the interviews and dates. It was because of how very real this entire relationship had gotten and how my heart demanded that I protect her from all of this, because just one image had stirred up a lot of gossip about us. I wasn’t going to make her live through that.

“Excuse me?” she scoffed, chuckling. “You’re joking right?” Vanessa walked past me and sat in her chair, spinning around to face me as she dropped her things on her desktop. “Shareholder confidence is through the roof, Dominic. Investors are ready to write big checks. You’re not thinking clearly. What, did you two have a cat fight?”

Resisting the urge to shout at her, I took a few steps backward and clenched my jaw. Was it a cat fight? I didn’t think so. But maybe Savannah had a different taste in her mouth after that confession. What I did know was, had I been privy to the fact that she had birthed my sons, I would never have paraded her around in front of the media circus the way we’d been doing for weeks now.

“I’m just done. You don’t need an explanation.” My chest puffed out slightly, but her scowl only darkened. I wasn’t used to seeing this side of her. Vanessa was my yes-woman, not the one who stood up to me and talked down to me.

“You’re not backing out. The board will never approve that. The numbers don’t lie, Dominic. This PR stunt is the best thing you’ve ever done for Knight Holdings. Now, forget that quitting nonsense and share your calendar with me so I can reschedule the interview for next week sometime.” She turned to her deskand picked up a pen, jotting a few notes on her clipboard, and I was seething mad.

“You’re not listening to me?—”

“No,” she snipped, slowly letting her eyes drag up to meet mine again, “you’re not listening to me. The public loves this. Maybe more than they love the idea of a merger. You’re not backing out now. There is too much momentum. If you back out now, you might as well kiss your position as CEO of Knight Holdings goodbye. The board will never forgive you tanking this merger.”

“You mean to tell me the public is more interested in a love story than this merger?” Bile rose in the back of my throat at the idea that my own board would turn against me. I didn’t even want this merger anymore if it meant harming Savannah in any way.

Yes, I was upset with her for keeping that secret, and yes, I had words for her. But mostly I wanted to calm things down, give her space to find her footing, and then—only after she felt safe again, I wanted to discuss what happened next.

“Maybe,” Vanessa said bluntly. “Send me the calendar, Dominic. Don’t make me hunt it down.”

I stormed out, slamming the door behind me.

My chest felt like there was a caged lion behind my ribs, roaring and clawing to get out. I stomped up the hallway, and instead of taking the elevator to my floor, I took the stairs to get some of this angry energy out. My body was on fire with frustration; I felt trapped. But more than that, I felt angry with myself for not being able to put a stop to this.

I had been so selfish when Vanessa brought up the idea of using a relationship to soften my image. After Savannah spit those words at me—not exactly the people’s billionaire—I had gone to Vanessa to ask her thoughts about it. The ideamaterialized and I never pushed pause. I never stopped to think about how this would affect anyone.

All I thought about was getting Savannah back in my sphere of influence because of how addicting she was to me, how badly I wanted the magic of that night six years ago to manifest itself again, this time with a chance to see where it led. And I was a total jerk for letting it get this far.

My office door was cracked when I approached, probably because Vanessa was here looking for me when I didn’t show for the interview. I pushed it open and slammed it behind me. The entire floor had to have heard it, but I didn’t feel bad.

With the rage coursing through my veins, I wanted people to know I was mad. I wanted them to be too afraid to talk to me that they left me alone for the rest of the day—or week.

I crammed a hand through my hair and kicked my trash can so hard it tipped over and rolled around under my desk, spewing its contents on the floor. Then I sank into my sofa and let my head fall backward, eyes shutting to block out the room.

---