Page 19 of Fallen Heir
And she’d walked right into it.
My jaw tightened as the image of her flashed in my mind—soft, scared, still healing. She had no idea. No clue what kind of bomb she was standing on.
Walter Sinclair ran a tight business. He was connected. Deep. I’d already learned that. Ties to law enforcement, judges, politicians. He could get away with murder—and he had. On the surface, it was just drugs and real estate. Greased palms and generous donations. Hundreds of thousands funneled into local charities to keep up the illusion while making others turn their heads.
But Bruce… Bruce was scheming into something else entirely. A whole other world. And I had a gut feeling Sinclair found out.
I knew beyond doubt, he was involved in their deaths.
“I think he was keeping her hostage.”
Ben’s eyes were dark now. Focused. His words cutting me to the core.
“After some digging, I found out he’d told locals at her work that she was devastated. Said she was having a hard time coping. Needed time. Space.”
What he really meant was:she’s not coming in, and don’t ask questions.
“He kept her at home for nearly a month after her parents died. Nobody saw her. And his story was just believable enough to stick. What I don’t know for sure ishowhe kept her there.”
My jaw clenched again. There were only two ways to make someone do something they didn’t want to. Offer them enough money to forget the regrets they’d have—or riddle them with fear.
My bets were on the latter.
“What was Savannah’s roll in all of this?”
“I think he used her to climb. And when he didn’t need the ladder anymore… he kicked it out from under her.”
Silence settled between us, heavy and cold.
“Her parents’ death definitely wasn’t clean,” Ben said finally. “I think Bruce had a hand in it.”
I stared down at the photo. A man with hollow eyes, a polished smile, and violence stitched into every line of his face.
Bruce Starling.
Savannah had married that. And now she was running from him.
No wonder she flinched when I touched her. No wonder she hesitated.
And she hadn’t just agreed to fake a relationship with me—she’d agreed to step into the public eye while being hunted.
What have I done?
“Fuck.” I said, standing again. My voice was low. Steady. Deadly calm. “I just pushed her into agreeing to be in the spotlight. With me. At every event. I just put her in more danger than I realized, Ben.”
Ben nodded. “So what’s the move?”
I stared out the floor-to-ceiling window again, but all I could see now was her face. Her smile. Her fear. And that damn fire in her eyes that made me want to burn down the world just to keep her safe.
“We draw him out.”
Ben didn’t flinch. He didn’t need more explanation.
“You follow her,” I said. “Quietly. No contact. No exposure. I want her watched. Protected. Every second.”
Ben nodded once. He didn’t ask questions—not the ones that didn’t need to be said.
We both knew the truth. If she knew what I knew—whatweknew—her fear would take over. She’d run.
