Chapter 18
LEDGER
The contract in front of me needs my signature, but I’ve been staring at it for twenty minutes without actually reading a word.
My phone rings and Silas’s name flashes on the screen.
“Talk to me.”
“Paris deal is ready to close. The Mercier Group wants to meet next week. They’re bringing their wives, making it a social thing.”
“Fine. Book the jet for Tuesday.”
“You taking Savannah?”
I pause. Taking her to Paris means exposing her to more of my world.
Means trusting that she won’t run the moment we’re in a foreign country.
But it also means showing her that this life isn’t just about being locked in a penthouse.
That being my wife comes with experiences, opportunities, and a partnership.
“Yeah,” I say finally. “I’m taking her.”
After I hang up, I go back to the contract. Force myself to read it this time. It’s a standard acquisition agreement for a boutique hotel chain in Chicago. Three properties, all profitable, all in need of capital injection and modernization.
Chicago. Where Savannah’s from.
Maybe I can turn that into something good. Bring her with me on business trips. Show her that marrying me doesn’t mean losing everything she was.
I’m signing the contract when my office door opens. Savannah walks in, and I set down my pen immediately.
She’s been crying. I can see it in her red-rimmed eyes, the way she’s holding herself together with visible effort. But she’s here. In my office. When she could be anywhere else in the penthouse.
“Savannah.” I stand. “Are you okay?”
“I know we already talked in the kitchen, but you have to promise me something else now.”
“What?”
“I’m not giving up my independence completely. I’m not becoming some trophy wife who sits in a penthouse and looks pretty. If I’m doing this, I’m doing it as your partner. Your equal. Not your possession.”
“I never wanted you to be my possession.”
“Didn’t you? When you sedated me and brought me here without my consent?”
The words hit like a slap. “That was different. You were hysterical, and I was terrified of losing you.”
“I know. And I’m trying to forgive you for it.
But you have to promise me something.” She’s right in front of me now, close enough to touch.
“Promise you’ll talk to me before you make decisions that affect both of us.
Before you drug me or lock me up or do whatever else you think is protecting me.
Promise you’ll treat me like your wife, not your prisoner. ”
“I promise.” I cup her face. “I swear to you, Savannah. No more decisions without you. We’re in this together.”
“Okay.” She leans into my touch. “Then we’ll make this work.”
I kiss her. Can’t help it.
She kisses me back. Her hands fist in my shirt, pulling me down to her, and I lift her onto my desk, papers scattering.
This is what I’ve needed. This connection. This proof that she’s really here, really mine, really choosing this.
Her legs wrap around my waist, and I’m kissing down her neck, her hands in my hair, both of us desperate for this closeness after days of tension and distance.
Then she pulls back, breathing hard. “Wait.”
I freeze. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I just…” She’s flushed, beautiful, looking at me with those brown eyes that undo me every time. “I don’t want our first time after this mess to be angry or desperate. When we do this again, I want it to mean something.”
“It always means something.”
“You know what I mean.” She slides off the desk, straightening her clothes. “I want it to be right, to be a real reconnection.”
I understand what she’s saying. And as much as my body is screaming at me to ignore her words and finish what we started, I respect her too much to push.
“Okay,” I say. “We’ll wait.”
“Thank you.” She smiles, and it’s the first real smile I’ve seen from her in days. “So what were you working on when I interrupted?”
“Contracts. Business acquisitions.” I gesture to the papers scattered on my desk. “Nothing that can’t wait.”
“What kind of acquisitions?”
“Hotels. I’m buying a small chain in Chicago.”
Her expression shifts. “Chicago?”
“Three boutique properties. Good locations, solid income, just need some capital and modernization.” I lean against the desk. “I thought maybe you’d want to come with me when I finalize the deal. See your mother’s house if you want. Say goodbye properly.”
“You’d let me do that?”
“Of course. I’m not trying to cut you off from your past, Savannah. Just keep you safe while you build a future. Also, in the meantime, you’re coming with me to Paris.”
The private jet takes off on Tuesday morning at 10:00 AM. Savannah sits across from me in leather seats, looking out the window as New York disappears below us.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Yeah. Just thinking.”
“About?”
“Everything. How fast my life has changed. Two months ago, I was catching my boyfriend cheating. Now I’m married, pregnant, and flying to Paris on a private jet.” She looks at me. “It’s surreal.”
“Regret it?”
“No.” She reaches across and takes my hand. “I’m excited. Is that weird?”
“Not weird.”
We talk for most of the flight in a way we haven’t since Vegas. She tells me she’s scared of losing herself in my world. Of becoming someone she doesn’t recognize.
I tell her I’m terrified of losing her to Dmitri. Of failing to protect her the way I protected Alexi.
She asks about the baby. Whether I’m ready to be a father again. I admit that I’m scared but excited. That having a child with her feels right in a way nothing else has.
By the time we land in Paris, we’re on the same page.
The Hotel Plaza Athénée is where we’re staying. All ornate ceilings and crystal chandeliers, the kind of luxury that most people only see in movies. Our suite overlooks the Eiffel Tower, and Savannah stands at the window for ten minutes just staring.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathes.
“Wait until you see it at night.”
The business dinner is at a restaurant on the Champs-élysées. The Mercier Group brings six people: three investors and their wives. I make introductions, and Savannah charms them immediately.
She speaks passable French, which I didn’t know. Compliments the wives on their style. Asks about their lives, their children, their interests. Within twenty minutes, she’s got all three women laughing and talking to her like she’s an old friend.
Meanwhile, I’m negotiating with their husbands. Terms, timelines, profit projections. Standard business talk. But I keep glancing over at Savannah, watching her work.
By the end of dinner, she’s collected enough intel to give me a significant advantage in negotiations.
I think I hit a jackpot with this one.