Chapter 23 Savannah
SAVANNAH
I’ve been nauseous all morning, and it has nothing to do with the baby.
Today is my fourteen-week checkup with Dr. Williams, and I haven’t been able to stop imagining Ledger’s men putting a gun to his head, about the fear in Williams’s eyes when he gave them the information from my first visit.
I tried to apologize over the phone when I called to schedule this appointment. Stammered through an explanation about my husband’s overprotective nature, about how it would never happen again. Williams had been professional, but I could hear the hesitation in his voice.
“Savannah.” Ledger appears in the bathroom doorway while I’m brushing my teeth. “We need to leave in twenty minutes.”
“I know.”
“You’re nervous.”
“Wouldn’t you be? Your men held him at gunpoint.”
“Which is why I’m coming with you.” He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “To apologize properly.”
I spit toothpaste into the sink. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I do. You’ve been anxious about this for days. If my apology makes it easier, then I’m apologizing.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re in the back of the car. Pedro is driving, the city passing by outside the tinted windows. Ledger’s hand finds mine, squeezing gently.
“It’s going to be fine,” he says.
“You don’t know that.”
“I know that doctor took an oath to help patients. He’s not going to refuse to see you because of what happened.”
“He might be too scared to give me proper care.”
“Then I’ll fix it. I’ll make sure he understands that won’t happen again.”
The clinic is in the same building I remember. Same nondescript entrance between a deli and a dry cleaner. Same elevator with flickering lights that makes me slightly claustrophobic.
When the doors open on the third floor, I take a deep breath.
The waiting room looks exactly the same as it did two months ago. Same uncomfortable chairs. Same outdated magazines. Same pale yellow walls that probably seemed cheerful to someone once, but now just look tired.
Ledger sits beside me, his hand on my thigh, and I can feel the tension radiating off him.
“You don’t have to be here,” I say quietly. “I know you have work.”
“I want to be here.” He squeezes my leg. “It’s our baby. I should be at every appointment.”
“Even though you terrified my doctor last time?”
His jaw tightens. “You wanted me to apologize. I’m going to apologize.”
The nurse calls my name, and we follow her back through the familiar hallway. Past the exam rooms with closed doors. Past the poster about prenatal vitamins that I memorized last time.
Dr. Williams is waiting in his office. He stands when we enter, and I see it immediately—the way his shoulders tense. The way his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
He’s afraid.
“Mrs. Volkov.” He extends his hand to me, then notices Ledger. His hand falters mid-air. “And Mr. Volkov.”
“Doctor.” Ledger’s voice is calm, professional. “Thank you for seeing us.”
“Of course.” Williams gestures to the chairs. “Please, sit.”
The appointment starts normally enough. He asks about my symptoms, my energy levels, and any concerns. I answer while trying to ignore the way his hands shake slightly when he types notes into his computer.
“I wanted to apologize,” I say suddenly. “For what happened last time. My husband’s men—they shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sorry they threatened you.”
The doctor’s expression shifts. Softens slightly. “I appreciate that, Mrs. Volkov. Though I have to admit, it’s not the typical way my patients’ families get information.”
“It won’t happen again,” Ledger says. His voice is measured, but there’s steel underneath. “What my men did was unacceptable. You were doing your job, and they violated your trust and mine. I’m sorry.”
Williams studies Ledger for a long moment, then nods slowly. “Thank you. That means something.” He pulls up a file on his computer. “Now, let’s take a look at this baby.”
The ultrasound room is the same too. Same machine, same cold gel, same uncomfortable table. But this time, Ledger is here. Standing beside me, holding my hand, his eyes fixed on the screen.
When Dr. Williams presses the wand to my stomach, the image appears.
Clearer than last time. More defined. “There it is,” he says, and his voice is warm now, professional distance giving way to genuine enthusiasm.
“About fourteen weeks along. Everything looks excellent. Good heartbeat. Good growth. All the measurements are right where they should be.”
I stare at the screen. The baby is so much bigger than before. I can see limbs now. A head. The curve of a spine.
Ledger’s hand tightens on mine. When I look at him, his eyes are shiny.
“That’s our baby,” he says, voice rough.
“That’s our baby,” I agree.
Dr. Williams prints out several pictures and hands them to us. “Everything looks great, Mrs. Volkov. Keep taking your prenatal vitamins, stay hydrated, and I’ll see you again in four weeks.”
“Thank you,” I say. “Really. Thank you for everything.”
“It’s my job.” He smiles, and this time it’s genuine. “And congratulations. You’re going to be great parents.”
In the car afterward, Ledger stares at the ultrasound pictures like they’re treasure maps.
“We should show Alexi,” he says.
“He’s going to make fun of us for being sappy.”
“Probably. But he’ll also be excited.” Ledger tucks the pictures carefully into his jacket pocket. “He’s going to be a good big brother.”
“He already is.”
I haven’t been to the main Kryla Holdings building in weeks.
Working from home has been comfortable, but today I needed to pick up some files that couldn’t be emailed, and Ledger had meetings all morning, so I decided to just go myself.
Pedro drove me, of course. Security is always tight, even for a quick office visit.
Jenna practically tackles me the moment I step off the elevator. “Oh my God, you’re alive!” She hugs me hard. “I was starting to think you’d been locked in a tower somewhere.”
“Just working from home.”
“Working from home in your billionaire husband’s penthouse, you mean.” She grins. “How’s married life treating you, Mrs. Volkov?”
I feel my cheeks heat. “It’s good. Really good.”
“I bet it is. Married to the boss. Living the dream.” She leans closer, lowering her voice. “Is it true he has a private jet?”
“Yes.”
“And you’ve been to Paris and Rome?”
“Yes.”
“I hate you. In the most loving way possible, I hate you.” She links her arm through mine. “Come on. You need to tell me everything. And I mean everything.”
We’re walking toward my old desk when I hear shouting from the lobby.
Everyone stops. Heads turn toward the elevators, toward the noise echoing up from the ground floor.
“What’s going on?” Jenna asks.
I move to the window that overlooks the lobby. We’re forty floors up, but I can see figures moving below. Security in their uniforms. And someone else.
“That’s Mason,” I whisper.
“Your ex?” Jenna presses against the window beside me. “What’s he doing here?”
I pull out my phone and call Pedro.
He answers immediately. “Mrs. Volkov, stay where you are. We’re handling it.”
“What’s happening?”
“Your ex-boyfriend is in the lobby. He got past the front desk somehow and started demanding to see you. Security is removing him now.”
Through the window, I watch as three security guards try to escort Mason toward the door. He’s fighting them, screaming something I can’t hear from this height. Then I see someone pulling out their phone. Filming.
“Oh no,” I breathe.
Mason breaks free from one guard and runs toward the elevator bank. He’s shouting at the top of his lungs, gesturing wildly. More guards appear. They tackle him, and the whole lobby erupts into chaos.
People are definitely filming now. Multiple phones pointed at the scene.
“This is going to be all over the internet,” Jenna says.
She’s right.
Within an hour, the videos are everywhere. Twitter, Instagram, TikTok. Mason in the Kryla Holdings lobby, screaming about how I’ve been kidnapped and brainwashed. How Ledger Volkov is controlling me. How someone needs to save me.
In one video, you can hear him clearly. “She’s been taken! They’re keeping her prisoner! Someone call the police!”
In another, he’s crying. Actual tears streaming down his face as security drags him toward the exit. It would be sad if it weren’t so terrifying.
I met Mason years ago at a coffee shop near my apartment. He was charming, attentive, and everything I thought I wanted.
We bonded over losing parents young. He lost his father to cancer when he was fifteen. I never had a father at all. For a while, it felt like we understood each other. Like we were both broken in complementary ways.
But Mason’s brokenness turned out to be different from mine. He needed to be needed. Needed to fix things. And when I didn’t need fixing anymore, when I started wanting more than his version of love, he found other ways to feel important.
Like cheating on me multiple times over the years.
And now, apparently, like this.
“Mrs. Volkov.” Pedro appears beside me. “Mr. Volkov wants you to come home. Now.”
“I’m fine. Mason’s gone, right?”
“For now. But we don’t know if he’ll come back. And Mr. Volkov is not happy about the security failure.”
“Security failure?”
“Mason was blacklisted. He should never have made it past the lobby desk.” Pedro’s expression is grim. “Someone’s getting fired today.”
Back at the penthouse, I find Ledger in his office, phone pressed to his ear, his voice ice-cold.
“I don’t care what excuse you have. You let a blacklisted individual into my building and put my wife at risk. You’re done. Security will escort you out by the end of the day.” He hangs up and looks at me. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. Mason didn’t get near me.”
“He got into the building. That’s too close.” He pulls me into his arms. “This can’t happen again.”
“It won’t. You just fired someone to make sure of it.”
“I’d fire ten people if it kept you safe.”
The office door opens, and Alexi walks in, phone in hand, grinning ear to ear. “Dad, you have to see this. Savannah’s ex is losing his mind on the internet.”
He holds up his phone, and the video plays. Mason’s breakdown in full HD, complete with audio of him screaming about kidnapping and brainwashing.
Alexi is laughing so hard he can barely breathe. “This is gold. Pure gold. He’s like a character from a bad TV drama.”
“It’s not funny,” Ledger says, but even he’s fighting a smile.
“It’s a little funny,” I admit. “He looks completely unhinged.”
“He is unhinged.” Ledger takes Alexi’s phone and watches the video again, his expression shifting from amused to concerned. “Which makes him dangerous. Unpredictable people do unpredictable things.”
“What are you going to do?” I ask.
“For now? Monitor him. Make sure he stays in Chicago.” Ledger hands the phone back to Alexi. “But if he escalates further, if he tries to come to New York again, then we handle it permanently.”
The way he says “permanently” makes my stomach twist.
“You can’t just—” I stop. Because actually, he can. That’s exactly what he can do.
“I’ll protect you however I need to,” Ledger says quietly. “Even from your ex-boyfriend’s breakdown.”
Alexi is still scrolling through the videos, laughing at the comments people are leaving. “People think it’s a publicity stunt. Some marketing campaign gone wrong.”
“Let them think that,” Ledger says. “Better than the truth.”
Later that night, alone in bed, I can’t stop thinking about Mason’s face in those videos. The desperation. The genuine belief that he was saving me.
He doesn’t understand that I don’t need saving. That I chose this. Chose Ledger.
But Mason was never good at understanding what I wanted. He only ever saw what he needed me to be.