Chapter 14: Breach

The world slowed.

Grayson’s words hung in the air like the strike of a match in a gas-filled room. Savannah stared at him, then at Jackson’s sharp, frozen profile. Something in the room shifted , a subtle gravity change, the quiet before a violent storm breaks the spine of everything beneath it.

“What do you mean the press already has the documents?” Jackson’s voice was quiet, dangerously quiet, the kind that meant he wasn’t shocked. He was calculating.

Grayson swallowed. His hand trembled slightly as he held out the tablet. “They weren’t leaked. They were dropped, directly emailed to Westline Business Journal, The Financial Sphere, and St. Louis Daily. All within the last twelve minutes.”

Savannah’s blood ran cold.

Delilah.

Jackson snatched the tablet, his eyes scanning the screen with lethal focus. Savannah stepped closer, reading over his shoulder. Her stomach twisted as lines of text blurred together , forged signatures, backdated leases, invalid trust conditions, potential fraud, connection to CEO Jackson Sterling.

One headline blinked across the screen like a quiet threat:

“Sterling Empire Faces Legitimacy Crisis , Marriage Contract Under Scrutiny.”

Savannah’s breath hitched. Her marriage. Her name. Her life , dragged into this world and thrown to wolves she’d never even seen.

Her voice was barely a whisper. “They know about the contract…”

Jackson didn’t look up. “Not all of it. They’re speculating. But speculation in the right hands is gunpowder.”

Savannah’s hand gripped the edge of the desk. “Jackson, ”

He looked at her then, just for a second. Enough for her to see the fury in his eyes, but also the flicker of something else. Something protective. Something that unsettled her more than the headlines.

“This,” he said, low, “isn’t your fault.”

Savannah’s throat tightened. “It feels like it is.”

“It’s mine,” Jackson said. “All of it.”

Grayson cleared his throat. “There’s more.”

Jackson turned sharply. “More?”

Grayson set down a second tablet. His hand shook now, unmistakably. “Harrison issued a statement.”

Jackson’s face drained of color. “He what?”

“He confirmed the documents,” Grayson said quietly. “He didn’t deny a single allegation. He… implied you acted alone.”

Savannah felt the floor tilt beneath her feet. “He’s throwing you under the bus.”

Jackson’s jaw clenched so hard she thought she heard a crack. “Of course he is.”

Savannah stared at the screen as Harrison’s statement unfolded , cold, calculated, surgical. Harrison claimed ignorance. He shifted blame. He wrapped Jackson’s decisions in a web of plausible deniability.

And then the blow that nearly took Savannah’s breath:

“My son has recently entered a marriage under questionable circumstances. We hope the new Mrs. Sterling will not be implicated.”

Savannah staggered back.

“No…” The word broke from her lips. “He didn’t, he wouldn’t, ”

“He did.” Jackson’s voice was a blade. “He just made you the face of it.”

Savannah felt the world squeeze around her. “They’re going to think I knew. That I was part of this. That I, ”

“You weren’t,” Jackson snapped. “No one will ever believe you were.”

“But they already do,” she whispered.

Jackson turned to Grayson. “Damage report.”

Grayson inhaled, gathering himself. “We have ninety minutes before the stock exchange reacts. But… something else, Jackson. Something worse.”

Jackson’s eyes narrowed. “Say it.”

Grayson hesitated, then spoke. “The documents sent to the press came with an addendum. A personal one.”

Savannah’s heart stopped. “Addendum?”

“For her.” Grayson lifted his chin slightly, toward Savannah. “For Savannah.”

The room felt too small, too bright, every sound suddenly too sharp.

“For me?” she breathed.

Grayson nodded. “It’s… your father’s medical file.”

Savannah choked on her breath. “What?”

Jackson’s expression darkened to something feral. “Show me.”

Grayson hesitated. “Jackson, ”

“Show. Me.”

Grayson handed him the file. Savannah leaned in without thinking , and then wished she hadn’t. The screen glowed with brutal, clinical clarity:

• Her father’s diagnosis

• Treatment history

• Prescription list

• Outstanding medical debt

• Recommendation for termination of care if payment wasn’t made

Savannah’s vision blurred.

“They leaked his records,” she whispered, horrified. “They, how could they, this is illegal. This is, ”

“It’s war,” Jackson said quietly. “This is what war looks like.”

Savannah’s knees wobbled. Jackson caught her elbow before she could fall.

She jerked away, breath ragged. “Don’t, don’t touch me.”

Jackson froze.

Savannah pressed both hands to her temples. “My father… my father is innocent. He’s sick. He has nothing to do with this. How could they… how could anyone be so cruel?”

Grayson answered softly. “Because they knew it would force your hand. And Jackson’s.”

Savannah sank into the nearest chair, staring at the floor as tears burned behind her eyes. “I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t want any of this.”

Jackson moved toward her, slower now. “Savannah.”

She looked up at him, and for the first time since they’d met, there was no anger in her eyes. Only heartbreak.

“You promised you’d protect me,” she whispered. “You said you wouldn’t let your father use me.”

Jackson’s voice dropped. “I know.”

“But he already has.”

Silence. Heavy and final.

Grayson cleared his throat again. “Jackson… there’s one more thing.”

Jackson didn’t turn. “Not now, Grayson.”

“You need to hear this.”

Jackson’s jaw flexed. “What.”

Grayson swallowed. “Delilah has… vanished.”

Jackson whipped around. “What do you mean vanished?”

“I mean,” Grayson said slowly, “she left the estate twelve minutes ago , and then disappeared off every camera feed. Security says her car never passed the southern gate. She’s nowhere on the grounds.”

Savannah blinked, confused. “She… disappeared?”

Grayson nodded gravely. “She has help. Someone inside.”

Jackson’s eyes narrowed, something cold and violent lighting behind them. “She couldn’t have done this alone.”

Grayson exhaled. “No. And there’s only one person with motive, access, and enough hatred of you to risk it.”

Savannah didn’t need the name. She felt it before Grayson spoke.

Harrison.

Jackson’s chest rose sharply. Once. Twice. Then he forced it down. Forced everything down.

“No,” he said. “He wouldn’t, ”

“Jackson,” Grayson murmured, “your father would burn a city to the ground to keep his legacy.”

Savannah’s stomach twisted.

“And he’d burn your wife with it.”

Savannah felt her heart lurch. Jackson’s head turned sharply toward her.

“My what?” she whispered, barely audible.

They froze in that moment , not as CEO and pawn, or contract and contractor, or sacrifice and strategist.

But as husband and wife caught in a war neither had asked for.

Jackson stepped closer, voice low. “You’re not a pawn in this. We fix it. Together.”

Savannah’s throat tightened. “Together,” she repeated. “Do you even know what that means?”

Jackson’s expression didn’t change, but something in his eyes did , something she couldn’t name.

Before either of them could speak again, the tablet buzzed violently in Jackson’s hand.

A fresh alert.

He looked down.

The color drained from his face.

Savannah leaned in, terror clawing up her spine. “What now?”

Jackson didn’t look at her. He couldn’t.

He just handed her the tablet.

Savannah stared at the new headline:

“Mrs. Savannah Sterling Under Investigation , Did She Aid in Fraud?”

Her world tilted.

Her lungs seized.

Her voice cracked like splintered glass.

“Jackson… what have you done?”

But behind her, at the study door, another voice answered instead , calm, cold, familiar.

“You both should’ve known this day would come.”

Savannah turned, breath frozen in her chest.

Harrison Sterling stood in the doorway.

And he was smiling.