Chapter 29
ROMEO
Savannah is asleep when I return to her room, a little while later. They decided to keep her overnight for observation after the pregnancy scare. Dr. Morris reassured us that the baby is fine, but they wanted to monitor her and make sure there are no complications.
My phone buzzes. It’s Luca.
Luca: Whitmore's been quiet. No movement since yesterday. Edgar's lawyers are stalling—they know what's coming.
I type back: Good. Let them stall. I have other priorities right now.
Luca: The case against them is solid. We can move forward whenever you're ready.
Soon. I pause, then add: But I'm handling Whitmore personally.
Thaddeus Whitmore is a threat. A loose end. A man who thinks he has a claim on what's mine.
And I'm going to end him.
Some threats need to be eliminated. Some men need to understand that there are lines you don't cross. And Thad has crossed every single one of them.
I'm going to find him. And then I'm going to make sure he can never threaten my family again.
The plan is simple. I'll wait until Savannah is discharged, until we're home and she's rested. I'll make sure she's safe and guarded, with Marco and Tony and every resource I have. I’ll make sure no one can get to her while I go after Thad with Luca at my back.
I'll go to Thad's apartment. I'll walk in like I own the place—because in every way that matters, I do own him now. I own his future. I own his reputation. I own every secret he's tried to hide. I'll make him see that. And then—
The sound of footsteps in the hallway interrupts my thoughts. I frown, turning toward the door. It's too early for the nurses' rounds, too early for visitors.
The door opens.
Thaddeus Whitmore walks into the room.
For a moment, I can't process what I'm seeing. He looks like hell. His face is bruised with the remnants of when I broke his nose weeks ago. His clothes are wrinkled. His eyes are wild and unfocused. The eyes of a man who has nothing left to lose. "How did you—" I start, but he cuts me off.
"You think I don't have resources?" His voice is rough. "You think I can't find out where she is? Where you took her?"
He's swaying slightly, and I realize he's drunk. Or high. Or both. This is worse than I thought.
"You need to leave." I move between him and Savannah's bed, blocking his view of her. "Now. Before I call security."
"Security?" He laughs. "You mean your thugs? Your criminals? The people you have watching her like she's some kind of prisoner?"
"She's not a prisoner. She's—"
"She's mine!" He's shouting now, and I see Savannah stir in the bed behind me. "She was always mine! We were engaged! We were supposed to get married, and you—you stole her! You manipulated her! You got her pregnant like some kind of—"
"Careful." My voice is cold, flat. "Be very careful what you say next."
"Or what?" He takes a step closer, and I can smell the alcohol on him. "You'll kill me? Like you killed that man in the photos? Like you've killed how many other people, Romeo?"
He spits my name like it's poison.
"Savannah saw those photos," he continues, and there's a manic edge to his voice now. "She saw what you are. What you're capable of. And she still chose you. Do you know how that feels? To lose to a monster?"
"I'm not—"
"You are!" He's screaming now. "You're a monster! You're a criminal! You're everything her father warned her about, and she chose you anyway! She threw away everything—her family, her future, her reputation—for you!"
Behind me, I hear Savannah's voice, weak and confused: "Romeo? What's—"
"Stay in bed," I say without turning around. "Don't move."
"How touching." Thad's voice drips with venom. "Still trying to protect her. Still trying to control her. That's all you know how to do, isn't it? Control. Manipulate. Possess."
"You need to leave." He's between me and the door. If I move to force him out, I leave Savannah exposed.
He laughs again. "Nothing about this is fair. I did everything right. I followed all the rules. I was the perfect fiancé, the perfect son-in-law, and she chose you. A criminal. A killer."
"Thad—" Savannah's voice is stronger now, and I can hear her trying to sit up. "Thad, you need to go."
"Shut up!" He's looking past me now, looking at her, and the hatred in his eyes makes my blood run cold. "You don't get to talk. You don't get to tell me what to do. Not after what you did. Not after you humiliated me. Not after you—"
He moves, faster than I expected from someone who's clearly intoxicated. He lunges at me, and I raise my hands to block him, but he's not trying to hit me. He's reaching for something in his jacket.
A knife.
The blade catches the fluorescent light as he swings it toward my chest, and I try to twist away, but I'm exhausted. I haven't slept in days. My reflexes are a half-second too slow.
The knife catches me across the ribs.
Pain explodes through my side, white-hot. I feel the warmth of blood spreading across my shirt, and I stumble backward, trying to keep my balance, trying to stay between him and Savannah.
"Romeo!" Savannah screams, and I can hear her trying to get out of bed, but she can't. She's still weak from yesterday. She's—
Thad swings again.
This time, I manage to catch his wrist, but he's stronger than he looks. Desperation gives him an edge I don't have right now. We're grappling, and the blood from my side makes my grip slippery.
"You took everything from me!" He's screaming in my face, spittle flying. "Everything! And now I'm going to take everything from you!"
He wrenches his arm free and slashes again. The blade catches my shoulder this time, and I feel something tear. My left arm goes partially numb. I'm losing this fight.
The realization hits me. I'm injured, exhausted, and he has a weapon. And I can't leave Savannah unprotected. Can't risk him getting past me.
"Security!" Savannah is screaming. "Someone help! Please!"
But the hospital is quiet at this hour. The nurses' station is down the hall. No one is coming fast enough.
Thad shoves me hard, and I stumble backward, my legs hitting the chair behind me. I go down, and the impact sends fresh agony through my injured side.
He's standing over me now, the knife raised, and I can see the madness in his eyes. The complete break from reality. "I'm going to kill you," he says. His voice is eerily calm. "And then I'm going to finish what I came here to do."
"What—"
His eyes shift to Savannah, and the look on his face makes my blood freeze. "She's pregnant with your bastard," he says quietly. "Six weeks, right? That's what I heard. Still early."
No.
"Don't." The word comes out as a gasp. "Don't you fucking dare—"
"Why not?" He's moving toward the bed now, and I'm trying to get up, but my body won't cooperate. "You took everything from me. Why shouldn't I take everything from you? She loses the baby, she loses you—maybe she'll finally understand what she threw away."
"Thad, no—" Savannah is sobbing now. "Please, the baby didn't do anything—"
"Neither did I!" He's screaming again. "I didn't do anything except try to give you the life you deserved! And you threw it away for him!"
He's at the bed now. He's reaching for her. He's going to—
I try to stand, but my legs won't hold me. I'm on my knees, blood pooling beneath me, and I can't stop him. Can't protect her. Can't—
"Romeo!" Savannah's voice cuts through the haze of pain. "The call button! Press the call button!"
But it's too late. Thad has grabbed her arm, yanking her toward him, and she screams, fighting, but she's weak. She's been through so much already.
"I'm going to make sure you lose it." Thad’s voice is cold and dead. "I'm going to make sure you feel exactly what I felt. Exactly what it's like to lose everything."
He raises the knife. And then Savannah does something I never expected.
She fights.
Her free hand shoots out and grabs his wrist—the one holding the knife—with both hands. Her grip is desperate, and I can see her fingers digging into his skin hard enough to bruise.
"You don't get to touch me!" she screams. "You don't get to hurt my baby!"
Thad tries to pull away, but she's holding on with a strength I didn't know she had—a strength born of pure maternal rage. "Let go of me!" He's trying to shake her off, but she won't release him.
They struggle, and I try to move toward them, but my legs won't cooperate. I can’t do anything but watch, helpless.
And then Savannah does something that stops my heart.
She twists his wrist—hard—and the knife falls from his grip. It clatters to the floor between them, and for a moment, they both stare at it.
Then Savannah moves.
She's faster than him. Faster than she should be after everything she's been through. She lunges for the knife, her hospital gown tangling around her legs, and she grabs it.
"Savannah, don't—" I shout, but it's too late.
She turns, the knife in her hand, and Thad is reaching for her again, his hands going for her throat. She doesn't hesitate. She drives the knife into his chest.
Not his stomach or his shoulder. His chest. Right where his heart is.
The sound he makes is horrible—a wet, choking gasp. His eyes go wide with shock, and he's looking down at the knife protruding from his chest like he can't believe it's real.
"That's for Jennifer," Savannah says, and her voice is cold, furious… like nothing I’ve heard from her before. "That's for Rebecca. For every woman you've hurt and manipulated and tried to control.”
She pulls the knife out, and blood pours from the wound. Thad stumbles backward, his hands going to his chest, trying to stop the bleeding.
"Savannah—" he gasps. "You—you killed me—"
"Yes." She's still holding the knife; her hands are shaking now. "I did. And I'd do it again."
He falls.
His body hits the floor with a heavy thud, and blood spreads across the white linoleum in a dark pool. Savannah is standing over him, the knife still in her hand, and for a moment, she just stares.
Then the knife falls from her grip, clattering to the floor beside Thad's body. She turns to me.
"Romeo—" Her voice breaks. "Romeo, you're bleeding—" She hurries toward me, and I try to stay upright, but my legs are giving out. I'm falling, and she catches me.
We go down together, and she cradles my head in her lap, screaming. "Help! Someone help! I need a doctor! Please!"
Her hands are on my side, pressing against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. But there's so much blood. Too much blood.
"Stay with me.” She's crying now. "Romeo, stay with me. Don't you dare leave me. Don't you dare—"
"Savannah—" My voice won't work properly.
"I'm here. I'm right here." She's pressing harder against the wound, and I can feel the pain, but it's distant now. Fading.
"You—you killed him—" I manage.
"I know." Her voice is shaking. "I know. I had to. He was going to hurt the baby. He was going to hurt me. He was going to—"
"I know." I try to reach up and touch her face, but my arm won't cooperate. "You—you were amazing—"
"Don't talk. Save your strength." She's looking around wildly. "Where the fuck is everyone? Why isn't anyone coming?"
I don’t think I’ve ever heard my perfect Southern girl curse before. I’d be hard as fuck right now if all my blood weren’t pouring out onto the floor.
I can hear footsteps, vaguely. Running. Voices shouting.
"Ma'am, step back—"
"No!" Savannah is screaming. "No, I'm not leaving him! He's bleeding! He needs help!"
"Ma'am, we need to assess—"
"Then assess him! Do something!"
I can feel hands on me that aren’t Savannah’s. Hands I don’t want, lifting me. Moving me. I'm placed on a gurney, and Savannah tries to follow, but someone holds her back.
"Ma'am, you need to let us work—"
"That's my—" She stops herself. "That's the father of my child. I'm not leaving him."
"You need medical attention yourself—"
"I don't care!" She's fighting them now, and I can see her trying to get to me. "I need to be with him!"
"Savannah—" I try to say, but my voice is too weak. She breaks free from whoever is holding her, and she's at my side again, taking my hand.
"I'm here," she says. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving you."
"Savannah—"
"No!" She's crying so hard she can barely speak. "I'm not leaving you. Not after everything. Not after—" Her voice breaks, and she presses her forehead against mine.
"I love you," she whispers. "I love you so much. Please don't leave me."
"I love you too," I manage, and I use the last of my strength to squeeze her hand. "I'm—I'm sorry—"
"Don't apologize. Just stay. Just—"
But I'm fading. The edges of my vision are going dark. The last thing I see is her face, and the last thing I hear is her voice, calling my name.
And then everything goes black.