Page 57 of Daddy's Accidental Babies

I stepped behind her, letting my gaze settle on her through the mirror. “So tomorrow I get to meet them?” I kissed the top of her shoulder and watched her expression shift.

Her eyes widened a little. She turned slowly but she wasn’t defensive.

“Yes,” she said. “I promise. I’m not going to keep them from you. But please help me get through tonight…”

We exchanged a look in the mirror—one of quiet understanding, and I stepped back, grabbed my jacket from the hook by the door, and held it while she slipped into her heels. The air had a kind of fragile purpose to it, like we were both walking a wire we couldn’t afford to fall from.

On the way down to the car, she stayed quiet. I unlocked the doors, and we both slid in. As we headed to David’s home, Savannah kept her gaze on the window, fingers tapping rhythmically against her thigh.

“Do you want to rehearse what you’re going to say to him?” I asked after a few blocks, keeping my eyes on the road.

“I’ve played it a hundred times in my head,” she said. “But none of them end well.”

That, at least, was something we agreed on. David would be surprised to see us arrive together. He probably assumed that sharing the flash drive with her would turn her away from me, not pull her closer. I didn’t relish the idea of putting him in his place, but someone had to. Why not a faithful friend who could do it with good news—that his campaign wasn’t at risk in any way?

The sky was darkening fast as we left the city behind. The closer we got to David’s estate, the more that tension set in—thick and hard in the chest. Neither of us said much more. There wasn’t anything left to clarify. We knew what would happen; we just had to walk through it.

The drive took almost forty minutes, and we spoke maybe twice. Savannah watched the city lights blur past; I drove with both hands on the wheel, my thoughts churning through every possible variation of what this night could turn into. Every time I imagined it, it ended the same way: a huge argument.

The gate at the estate was open. The lights inside the house were low. No security came to greet us, and no staff opened the door. It was the way you leave your house when family was set to arrive, and he probably would be shocked by seeing me.

Savannah climbed out before I turned off the ignition. I followed her across the drive and up the front steps. Her posture was rigid, spine straight, chin level. If she was afraid, she didn’t show it.

David answered the door himself. He wore a pressed shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows. His tie was missing, and there was a looseness to his expression that I hadn’t seen before—a kind ofresignation as soon as he saw me. He knew her choice before she even opened her mouth.

“We need to talk,” Savannah said. Her tone was formal, the words clipped and cool. Whatever fondness she might’ve once shown him had vanished, replaced by controlled distance.

He stepped aside and held the door open without a word.

The foyer was as pristine as ever, but something about the space felt colder than it had in the past. Savannah walked ahead, her heels tapping lightly on the hardwood. I stayed close to her side as we entered the sitting room. A single lamp was on by the fireplace, and the rest of the space was dim.

Neither of us sat down, but when she tucked into my side, David glowered at me defensively. He wasn’t surprised we were here at the same time; he just hadn’t expected us to be united. His eyes flicked to me the second Savannah spoke. She didn’t wait for him to take a seat or start in on his usual lectures.

“I’m not going to be bullied by you anymore,” she said. “I love Dominic. And the boys—Dominic’s sons—deserve the truth too. They need their father, and I won’t let you twist things so that I push Dominic away.”

David’s mouth pulled tight. “Savannah?—”

“Don’t,” she snapped. “You had your say. You gave me that flash drive with Dominic’s secret, hoping it would make me walk away, but it changed nothing, Dad. Dominic didn’t do anything wrong, and I don’t think any less of him.” She clung to my side fiercely, and my heart had never felt more full hearing her defend me.

David’s eyes narrowed; he pressed his hand to his forehead and paced a few steps with a rigid body. “You don’t know what you’re doing. You don’t see what kind of risk he brings.”

“Actually,” I said, stepping forward and keeping my tone calm, “she knows exactly what she’s doing. And you’re not protecting her, David. You’re isolating her.” He opened hismouth, but I cut him off and pulled the folded slip of paper from my coat and held it out to him. “This came from Graham—notes on his research. He called around, did some digging.

“This proves what I couldn’t be sure of that night. It wasn’t a person we hit in Montauk. It was an animal, most likely already injured. We have everything documented to back it up.”

David looked at the paper but didn’t reach for it. His shoulders twitched, like he was unsure whether to lean forward or walk away. He fumed for a second, pressed his fingertips to his temples like he couldn’t believe what I was saying. I wasn’t sure what incompetent fool was running his campaign, or if maybe he hadn’t even said anything and the fear of being found out kept him from asking anyone to help him out. But he seemed reluctant to trust my proof.

“Your campaign isn’t in jeopardy,” I added. “Nothing from that night ties back to you or to me. But everything you’ve done since? The leaks, the headlines—Marla twisting coverage to paint me as reckless? That’s what’s going to ruin your legacy.”

Savannah took a step toward her father, leaving the safety of my side. “You used me, Dad. And when I didn’t play along, you used Marla to twist the story and destroy everything we were trying to build.”

“I did what I thought I had to do,” David said, his voice sharp. “You were in over your head. You still are.”

“Then you should have helped me stand,” she said, her voice cracking. “Not tried to cut out the foundation.”

He looked at me, an accusation rising in his eyes. “You think this ends with you? She’s still going to have to pick up the pieces.”

“We’ll do that together,” I said. “And you don’t get to decide what’s good for her anymore.”

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