Chapter 27 Savannah
SAVANNAH
“Try this one.” Alexi holds up a dress that’s definitely not maternity wear.
I raise an eyebrow. “That’s not going to fit.”
“Sure it will. It’s stretchy.”
“Alexi, I’m twenty weeks pregnant. That dress is made for someone who isn’t growing a human.”
He grins and tosses it back on the rack. “Fine. But you have to admit, the color would look good on you.”
We’re in the Upper East Side, at a place Alexi insisted was the best place for maternity clothes in New York despite Marie suggesting SoHo. I’m starting to think he just wanted an excuse to hang out.
Ledger had business this morning—something about permits and city officials—so Alexi volunteered to take me shopping. At first, I thought it would be awkward. Spending hours alone with my husband’s son, who’s only three years younger than me.
But it’s not awkward. It’s easy.
“My mom used to drag me shopping all the time,” Alexi says, flipping through another rack. “She’d make me sit outside dressing rooms for hours while she tried on everything in the store.”
“Did she actually buy anything?”
“Rarely.” He smiles, but there’s sadness in it. “She just liked having company. Dad was always working, so it was usually just us.”
I pick up a black dress with an empire waist. “What was she like?”
“Smart. Funny. She had this laugh that could fill a whole room.” He pauses. “She died when I was pretty young.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago.” He shrugs, but I can see it still hurts. “What about your mom?”
“She was everything.” I hold the dress against myself, checking the mirror. “She gave up everything to raise me alone. Worked herself to the bone so I could have a better life.”
“Your dad wasn’t around?”
“Never met him. He was some soldier who promised my mom the world, then disappeared when she got pregnant.” I put the dress back.
Alexi is quiet for a moment. “We’re kind of the same, then. Growing up without one parent.”
“Yeah. I guess we are.”
“For what it’s worth,” he says, “I’m glad you married my dad. I was worried at first about him bringing someone new into our lives. Thought it would be weird having a stepmother.”
I laugh. “A stepmother who’s twenty-five and pregnant.”
“Exactly. But you don’t feel like a stepmother. You feel like…” He considers. “Like the sister I never had.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He bumps my shoulder with his. “Now come on. Try on some actual maternity clothes before Dad calls and asks why we’ve been here for two hours without buying anything.”
The maternity section is on the second floor. I try on six different dresses, two pairs of jeans, and a collection of stretchy tops that actually fit over my bump.
Alexi waits outside the dressing room, occasionally offering commentary through the door.
“That one makes you look like a librarian.”
“What’s wrong with librarians?”
“Nothing. But you’re married to a Bratva boss. You need to look more…I don’t know. Powerful.”
“I’m shopping for maternity clothes, not planning a hostile takeover.”
“Same thing, really.”
I come out wearing dark jeans and a silk top that drapes nicely over my stomach. “Better?”
He studies me critically. “Much better. You look like you could negotiate a business deal and then kill someone.”
“That’s the aesthetic I was going for.”
We end up buying most of what I try on. Alexi carries the bags without complaining, even though there are at least seven of them.
“You know, you’re pretty good at this,” I say as we head toward the exit.
“At what? Shopping?”
“Being a brother. Or whatever we are.”
His smile is genuine. “You too.”
We stop at a coffee shop down the street. Alexi orders an espresso, and I get a decaf latte that tastes like disappointment but is supposedly better for the baby.
“Can I ask you something?” Alexi says as we sit at a small table.
“Sure.”
“Are you happy? With Dad, I mean. With all of this.”
I take a sip of my terrible coffee. “That’s a complicated question.”
“I know. But I need to know you’re okay. That he’s not…I don’t know. Forcing you into something you don’t want.”
“He’s not forcing me.” I set down my cup. “At first, yeah, I felt trapped. But now? I chose this. I chose him.”
“Even knowing what he does?”
“Your dad is a lot of things. Dangerous and ruthless. But he’s also protective and loyal and loves his family more than anything. I see that. And I want to be part of it.”
Alexi nods slowly. “Good. Because if you ever changed your mind, I’d help you leave. Just so you know.”
“You’d help me leave your own father?”
“If you needed it, yeah.” He drains his espresso. “But I’m glad you don’t.”
We finish our coffee and head out. The sun is brutal, and I’m already regretting wearing black.
“Car’s this way,” Alexi says, leading me toward the far end of the lot where Ledger’s SUV is parked.
Then I see him.
Mason.
He’s standing near a silver sedan about thirty feet away, and he’s looking right at me.
My stomach drops. “Alexi.”
“I see him too.” His voice changes. “Keep walking. Don’t stop.”
But Mason is moving toward us. He looks terrible. Thinner, like he hasn’t been eating. His hair is too long, and his shirt is wrinkled.
“Savannah.” He calls my name like a prayer. “Please. I just want to talk.”
“Keep walking,” Alexi repeats, positioning himself slightly in front of me.
“Just five minutes,” Mason says, getting closer. “That’s all I’m asking.”
“She doesn’t want to talk to you.” Alexi’s hand goes to his pocket, and I know he’s reaching for his phone.
“I’m not talking to you.” Mason’s eyes stay locked on me. “Savannah, please. I need to explain.”
“What do you want, Mason?”
“Don’t,” Alexi says quietly.
“I just want to talk.” Mason stops a few feet away. “I need you to understand what happened. I need you to hear me out.”
“You slept with my best friend. What’s there to understand?”
“It was a mistake.” His voice cracks. “The biggest mistake of my life. Lizzy seduced—”
“What the hell, Mason?” My fury begins to boil. “You admitted it wasn’t the first time with her. Remember?”
“She seduced me.”
I laugh. “Of course. It’s Lizzy’s fault. Not yours.”
“I’m not saying I’m innocent.” He takes another step closer. “I’m saying I was weak. I was stupid, and I hurt you in the worst possible way. But I’ve changed. I’ve been going to therapy. I quit drinking. I—”
“How did you know I was here?”
The question stops him. “What?”
“How did you know I’d be here, on this street, at this exact time?”
He hesitates, just for a second. But it’s enough.
“You’ve been following me,” I say. “Tracking my credit cards or something.”
“I just wanted to see you. To know you were okay.”
“That’s called stalking, Mason.”
“I wasn’t stalking you. I was—”
“We’re done here.” Alexi pulls out his phone. “I’m calling security. You need to leave. Now.”
“I’m not leaving until Savannah hears me out.” Mason’s desperation is starting to show. His voice gets louder. “I love you. I never stopped loving you. What we had was real, and I know you felt it too.”
“What we had is over.”
“Because of him?” Mason’s eyes flick to Alexi, then back to me. “Because you married some rich guy? You think money is going to make you happy? Look at you, you got pregnant pretty fast. So it must be all about the money.”
“I don’t owe you an explanation. We’re done talking here.”
“Savannah, please.” Mason moves closer, and Alexi immediately steps between us. “I’m begging you. Give me another chance. Let me prove I’ve changed.”
“Security is on the way,” Alexi says calmly. “You have about three minutes to leave before this gets ugly.”
“I don’t care about your security.” Mason tries to move around Alexi, but he blocks him. “Savannah, just listen to me for five minutes. That’s all I’m asking. Five minutes, and if you still want me to leave, I’ll go. I promise.”
“She doesn’t owe you five seconds,” Alexi says. “Back up.”
“I’m not talking to you.” Mason’s getting agitated now. “Savannah, tell him to move. Let me talk to you.”
“No.”
“Please. I just need—” He reaches past Alexi, trying to grab my arm.
It happens fast.
Alexi catches Mason’s wrist mid-reach and twists. Hard. There’s a sickening pop, and Mason screams.
“Don’t fucking touch her,” Alexi says quietly.
Mason tries to pull away, but Alexi’s grip doesn’t loosen. “Let go. You’re breaking my arm.”
“I’ll break a lot more than that if you don’t back up right now.”
“Alexi,” I say. “Let him go.”
He releases Mason’s wrist, and Mason stumbles backward, cradling his arm. His face is twisted in pain and rage.
“You broke my wrist,” he gasps. “You fucking broke my wrist.”
“Should’ve kept your hands to yourself.”
Security arrives. Two men in uniforms jog across the parking lot toward us.
“Sir, we need you to come with us,” one of them says to Mason.
“She’s pregnant,” Mason says, like they’re supposed to care. “She’s having his baby. She moved on like I never existed.”
“Sir—”
“I loved you.” He’s crying now. “I loved you, and you replaced me like I was nothing.”
The security guards take his arms—gently, because his wrist is already injured—and start leading him away.
He looks back at me one last time. “This isn’t over, Savannah. You hear me? This isn’t over.”
They pull him toward the security office, and I watch until they disappear inside the building.
My hands are shaking.
“You okay?” Alexi asks.
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’re shaking.”
“I’m fine.” I take a breath. “We should go.”
He studies me for a moment, then nods. “Yeah. Let’s get you home.”