Page 7 of Fallen Heir
She smiled, the smallest curve of her lips. “She’s good friends with the boss. I saw her walk in with you earlier.”
“Ah,” I mumbled, my head spinning. “She’s VIP, isn’t she?”
Nic nodded. “She’s VIP. And I think she’ll be giving our friend a talking to right now.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause a scene,” I whispered, feeling the weight of everything crashing down.
“This wasn’t your fault,” Nic said gently, handing me the water. “You don’t have to apologize.”
Millie’s voice was close now. “Vannah, oh my God, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just a little shaken up,” I said, trying to compose myself. “Who was that guy?”
Millie replied with a sigh. “He’s a regular. He’s banned from most places around here. He can add this one to the list too.”
I shook my head, still processing everything. “I didn’t mean to ruin your night.”
Millie smiled. “You didn’t. I’m getting you home. We’ll do this another time.”
She didn’t hesitate. Not once. She moved like a woman who knew exactly how to show up—not just for fun, but for fallout.
“Thanks for looking out for me.” The words meant more than she knew. She was the only steady thing in my life—the one person I could count on. And she had no idea how much that meantto me.
Chapter 4
Jaxson
Another night, another grand opening. I’d been through it all before—over a dozen times in Manhattan and surrounding areas. It had become routine.
Before the crowd started filing in, I had a quick meeting with, the bar manager. She ran the crew well, keeping everything flowing smoothly. I strategically placed my clubs in the wealthiest areas. The cash flow and great tips kept my employees happy, and more importantly, it kept them loyal.
Most people didn’t care about their employees, but I did. After my father’s death, I inherited Manhattan skyscrapers filled with multi-million-dollar condos—enough to never work again.
But I wasn’t in it for the money. I stayed in the game for the thrill, for the power, and for the control. And to quietly fund the other business—the one no one asked questions about.
Looking out from my office above the dance floor, I saw Millicent. She was like a sister to me—always there, always part of the scene. But I couldn’t help but roll my eyes as she strode in. I had a score to settle with her. She was the reason I ended up on Page Six, when she dared me to kiss a woman on the dance floor. What she failed to mention was that the woman’s husband had just walked away, leaving me with a sucker punch to the face. I deserved it, but it had cost me some serious publicity damage which ironically, she now gets to fix. Tonight, I was going to find a way to get her back.
My thoughts of retaliation quickly vanished as the last person I ever thought I’d see walked through the door—Savannah Starling. My stomach tightened. What the hell wasshedoing here?
She didn’t even know I existed, but I sure as hell knew who she was. Her face had been haunting my dreams for weeks, twisting them into nightmares.
A few months back, I’d received a letter from Barbara Sinclair—a woman I’d worked with over the years on some high-stakes jobs. She was sharp, unshakablycomposed, and always knew exactly what she was asking for.
When her letter arrived—urgent and desperate—I didn’t hesitate. I dropped everything and went to Alabama. I had a job to do.
But by the time I got there, it was too late. Barbara and her husband were dead. A car crash, they said. But it was too neat. Too clean. And I didn’t buy it.
What most people didn’t know—what no one outside my closest circle ever could—was that Barbara had been quietly feeding me missions for years. Places no one else seemed to know about. Coordinates hidden in international shipping manifests. Abandoned properties halfway across the world. Underground facilities buried in plain sight.
How she got her hands on that intel, I still didn’t know. She was a criminal attorney, not a spy. But time and time again, she led me to them—women and children caged like animals, trafficked and discarded. And I brought them home.
I never asked questions. I didn’t have to. Barbara’s instructions were always clear. Her cause always righteous. And if she was willing to put herself in danger to shut down the kind of monsters we were going after… then the least I could do was finish what she started.
Bruce Starling, Savannah’s husband, had claimed wealth, but his family was far from rich. Just before their marriage, something changed. They hit a financial windfall that was too coincidental, too perfect. I didn’t trust it. And now, seeing her walk through that door—Savannah, the missing piece I’d been searching for—it all came rushing back.
I’d been digging into her life for months, trying to piece together the puzzle. And now, here she was, standing in my club. With Millicent, no less.
I quickly pulled up the file on my computer, the data I’d gathered finally clicking into place. If this was the same woman Millicent had been talking about, then she’d been in New York for months working with Millie at her firm, right under my nose.
