Chapter 11: The Underlying Motive

The silence of the grand hallway was suffocating, a stillness that hung in the air like a thick fog. Savannah’s fingers brushed the edge of a marble column as she made her way toward the study. The mansion was more imposing up close, with every detail calculated to exude wealth, power, and control. There was something disorienting about it, the gleaming floors, the sharp angles of the furniture, the portraits of Jackson’s ancestors staring down at her with expressions frozen in time.

Each step she took echoed through the expansive hall, and the rhythmic sound seemed to grow louder, more pronounced with every passing second. It was as if the house itself was alive, waiting, watching, and it knew she didn’t belong.

Savannah couldn’t shake the feeling that she was a pretender here. An outsider. In her own marriage, she was just playing a part, a role in a narrative she hadn’t fully signed up for. The gleaming smile Jackson had given her earlier, that perfect mask, now felt like a facade. Every conversation they’d shared in this mansion, every touch, every whispered word, had it all been a performance?

The dinner had left a bitter taste in her mouth. Jackson had remained distant, polite, but cold. His family? Worse. Cold stares, tight-lipped smiles, the way his mother had fixed her with a calculating look across the table. She could feel their eyes on her, like a predator sizing up its prey. It was unbearable, like being trapped in a gilded cage.

She had tried to be charming, tried to fit in, but she was keenly aware of how she didn’t belong. She had been raised in a world so different from this one, a world where warmth and genuine connection were valued above status and appearance. In Jackson’s family, there was none of that.

She needed air, space, a break from their prying eyes. Excusing herself from the table had been a relief, but now, standing in the hallway, she felt just as lost. Her fingers traced the intricate designs on the wall, barely noticing the art or the décor anymore. She couldn’t focus. Her mind was too clouded. The strange and unsettling conversations she’d overheard during dinner kept replaying in her head. They spoke in hushed tones when they thought she wasn’t listening, but she heard it all.

“How does she even fit into all of this?” Jackson’s sister, Katherine, had muttered with a laugh that didn’t reach her eyes. “A woman like her... nothing more than a pawn, really.”

Savannah’s breath caught in her throat as she remembered the sharp edge to Katherine’s voice, the contempt. Jackson had been right there, his arm around her, but had he heard the words? Did he even care? She had felt like nothing more than an object in that room, a trophy to show off, a symbol of a deal. But as much as she hated to admit it, that thought kept burrowing itself deeper into her mind, the idea that she wasn’t here for love, for companionship, she was here because of some business arrangement that none of them had bothered to explain to her.

Her thoughts were spiraling, and she needed to focus. She needed clarity. As she approached the study, she slowed her pace, the soft click of her heels barely audible. She glanced around, making sure no one was around to see her, but the hallway was as empty as it had been since she’d entered. No one seemed to be watching her tonight.

The study door was slightly ajar, and Savannah instinctively hesitated. Something in her gut told her that what was about to happen would change everything. She took a slow breath, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. She was about to overhear something, she could feel it.

Her eyes narrowed as she leaned in closer to the door, holding her breath as she strained to listen. The voices inside were low, hushed, and Savannah found herself instinctively inching closer.

“…not sure how long we can keep her in the dark,” came a voice, deep and authoritative. Jackson’s father. There was no mistaking it. “She’s not as naïve as we thought she’d be.”

Savannah’s heart stuttered in her chest. Naïve? They had underestimated her?

“She’s going to be difficult to manage,” another voice responded, more familiar this time. Jackson’s uncle. “She doesn’t fit the mold. Too... independent.”

Savannah’s grip on the doorframe tightened. Independent? Was that what they thought of her?

“She’ll fall in line. They all do,” Jackson’s father replied, his voice growing colder, sharper. “It’s a matter of time. She’s just a contract, a business deal. But if we don’t manage this well, we lose everything.”

Her pulse quickened. A contract. A deal. That’s what she was to them. Nothing more than a checkbox in some financial arrangement.

“We’re not in this for love, Jackson,” Jackson’s father continued, his voice now laced with something almost dismissive. “Don’t mistake this for anything more than what it is. She’s here to fulfill her part. You can’t let emotions cloud your judgment.”

Savannah felt as if the floor had dropped beneath her. This entire marriage, everything she thought she knew, had been nothing but a business transaction. A deal. Her stomach churned as the weight of the words crashed into her, sending waves of nausea through her body.

She staggered back slightly, her breath shallow as she absorbed the harsh truth. This wasn’t about love. It never had been. Jackson’s family had been using her from the beginning, and Jackson… Jackson had been in on it the whole time.

The sound of footsteps made her stiffen. She barely had time to react before the door to the study opened, and Jackson appeared in the frame. His eyes locked onto hers, dark and unreadable, and for a moment, neither of them moved.

Savannah swallowed hard, her mind racing. What did she say? How did she process what she had just overheard?

Jackson’s gaze flickered to the door, then back to her. The words on the tip of her tongue died before they could be spoken.

“You’ve been listening,” Jackson said, his voice low and almost detached. “What did you hear?”

Savannah’s heart pounded in her chest. She had to be careful. She had to play this right. But how could she pretend she hadn’t heard the most damning thing of all?

“I heard enough,” she managed, her voice steadier than she felt. “What’s going on, Jackson? What’s the truth? Why did you really marry me?”

There was no mistaking the flicker of tension in his eyes, the way his jaw clenched as if he were holding something back. For a moment, the silence between them stretched, thick with unspoken words.

Finally, Jackson spoke, his tone softening, but there was still an edge to it. “You’re here for more than just me. You’ve always been more than just a wife. I told you from the beginning there was more at play, didn’t I?”

Savannah’s stomach twisted. “But you lied to me. All this time, you let me think it was something real. You let me think I meant something to you.”

Jackson took a step closer, his expression darkening, and Savannah instinctively stepped back. His presence was overwhelming, and she could feel the intensity of his gaze as it fixed on her. “You’ve always meant something to me. But don’t think for a second that this was ever just about love. It was never that simple.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

“What was it about, then?” she whispered, though she already feared she knew the answer.

Jackson’s face was unreadable, but something flickered in his eyes, regret? Anger? Both?

He exhaled slowly, his voice hardening as he spoke again. “It’s about survival. About doing what needs to be done. And you, Savannah, you’re part of that.”

The weight of his words settled heavily in the air between them, and Savannah felt a wave of helplessness wash over her. She had been nothing more than a tool in his family’s game all along.

What now? What was left for her in this marriage?