Page 20 of Fallen Heir
And I couldn’t let that happen.
She didn’t know I knew about her past. Didn’t know I knew her mother. Didn’t know she’d been caught in the middle of something darker than she ever deserved.
Not yet. It was safer this way. For now, it would stay between me and Ben.
But still— “I’m going to have to move a lot quicker. I’ll text her tonight.”
Ben raised a brow but didn’t speak.
I looked back at him. “Not to tell her. I’m not ready for that. She’s not ready for that.”
And maybe… I just wanted her to myself for a little while before everything shattered.
I wasn’t just playing a part. I was walking straight into a war. And for reasons I couldn’t even explain…she’s the one I’d burn for. I just hoped she’d say yes to the invitation I was about to extend.
Because this wasn’t just another event. Not for me.
Chapter 9
Savannah
The condo was quiet. Not eerily so—comfortingly so. The penthouse came with state-of-the-art security—facial recognition, a doorman who knew my name, and round-the-clock concierge services that made me feel untouchable. Safe.
And still… I hated how I’d paid for it.
Blood money, if I was being honest.
I didn’t want the inheritance. I didn’t want the accounts, the properties, the stocks. But when you’re running and hiding with nothing but a duffel bag, a semi-fake name, and access to accounts stacked in the millions, you do what you have to do. You spend it… or you sleep on the street.
And God, if only the women I’d helped had that kind of choice. So many of them were trapped—by poverty, by kids, by fear, by systems designed to keep them small. They didn’t get handed escape routes. They didn’t get trust funds and penthouses. They got shelters with curfews and bruises they had to explain to strangers.
And here I was… hiding in luxury.
Sometimes I wondered if I deserved it at all. If maybe I was just another spoiled girl running from consequences.
But I knew the truth.
I’d earned my scars. And no amount of marble countertops or concierge security could make me forget how I got them.
I’d tried tracing the money more than once—following trails, combing through deposits, researching names I didn’t recognize. But every path led nowhere. Just real estate transfers. Monthly deposits. Clean paperwork. Too clean. Untraceable to me.
Maybe I needed an investigator—someone who knew how to find the rot hiding behind polished glass. But the truth was… I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what I’d find. Because he was my father, after all.
Tonight, I was wrapped in one of my softest robes, my makeup wiped clean, and my hair piled into a loose bun as I movedthrough the bedroom barefoot. I had music playing low in the background—something soft and moody—because here, I could let myself just simply exist. But my mind wouldn’t stop.
Jaxson Westbrook.
He had been stuck in my head all day. The way he moved. The way he watched me. The way he stood just a little too close, his tall frame somehow never feeling imposing—just… grounding. He towered over me, but I didn’t feel small. I felt shielded. And that terrified me.
No man had made me feel safe since the day I left Alabama. Not that I’d let anyone close enough to try.
It wasn’t just that he was attractive. Tall. Strong jawline. Broad shoulders. A confidence that made people step out of his way when he walked into a room. It was the silence between his words. The way he didn’t push. The way his eyes saw too much and said too little.
I wasn’t used to being looked at like that—like someone worth knowing. Yet he didn’t know he could never really know me. I couldn’t let him in. I wouldn’t put Millie in danger, and I sure as hell couldn’t drag some unsuspecting soul into the storm I was still trying to outrun. Even if I thought he could handle his own.
Something told me Jaxson wasn’t the type to run from chaos. Something in the way he carried himself said he’d seen more darkness in this world than I even knew existed.
I sighed and moved into the bathroom, brushing my teeth slowly, taking my time. Maybe too much time. Because the second I turned off the faucet and glanced at my phone…
