Chapter 19: Lines in the Sand

Savannah did not sleep.

Not that night. Not for a moment.

Not with the weight of secrets pressing into her ribs like steel.

Jackson had disappeared hours earlier, pulled into late-night crisis calls, meetings behind locked doors, strategy sessions with Grayson that stretched past midnight. And though Savannah had been dismissed from the study with a sharp, “Go rest, you’ve done enough,” her mind refused to be quiet.

Done enough?

She had barely begun.

She lay awake in the guest suite, her new marital suite, as the house staff called it, staring at the silk canopy above her, replaying the same words over and over:

“If the amended clause leaks to the press, the marriage becomes evidence of fraud.”

“Harrison has been planning this for months.”

“Delilah has copies.”

“We either fight… or fall.”

Fight.

The word stuck.

By dawn, Savannah had made a choice, quietly, privately, fully.

She was done being the one pushed around the chessboard.

Today, she would move.

The sun had barely cracked the horizon when Savannah slipped out of bed, pulled on a soft sweater, and crept down the hallway. The mansion was silent. Too silent. Her footsteps echoed like whispers along the polished floor.

She found the study by instinct, a room she had come to dread, yet felt pulled to. Jackson had left the lights on. Papers littered the desk, reports scattered, a half-drained glass of whiskey abandoned near the window.

Jackson himself was nowhere to be seen.

Savannah inhaled deeply, then approached the desk. Her eyes moved over the documents, company forecasts, internal memos, legal analyses. Words like “breach,” “investor flight risk,” “fraud,” “trust reversion,” clawed at the page.

Then she saw it.

A single sheet, half folded.

Her name at the top.

SAVANNAH MONTGOMERY, IMPACT ASSESSMENT.

Her blood chilled.

She lifted the page.

The bullet points were clinical. Cold.

– “Media vulnerability: HIGH.”

– “Emotional leverage: HIGH.”

– “Use of spouse as stabilizing PR agent: POTENTIAL.”

– “Disclosure risk if spouse becomes noncompliant: SEVERE.”

– “Monitor behavior.”

She dropped the page.

Her throat tightened.

Her fingers curled into fists.

This wasn’t just a marriage of convenience.

This wasn’t just a contract.

It was surveillance.

Expected obedience.

A plan for handling her like she was an unpredictable asset.

Someone behind her exhaled quietly.

Savannah froze.

She turned.

Jackson stood in the doorway, shirt unbuttoned at the collar, hair slightly mussed, exhaustion etched into the lines of his face. He looked like he hadn’t rested either. His eyes dropped to the paper in her hand.

Of all the documents scattered across the table, of all the secrets hidden in this house, she had chosen the one thing he hadn’t wanted her to see.

“Savannah,” he said softly.

Her fingers shook around the paper. “Impact assessment?” Her voice cracked. “Is that what I am to you?”

His jaw tightened. “It’s not what you think.”

“Really?” she whispered. “Because it looks exactly like what I think.”

He entered the room slowly, each step measured. “That file is internal. Something the crisis team drafted. I didn’t write it, ”

“But you kept it,” she cut in. “On your desk. In active use.”

“There are things you don’t understand, ”

“Then explain them.”

He paused. The silence felt like a blade.

“Savannah,” he said finally, “I am trying to protect you.”

“That’s what everyone in this house keeps saying,” she whispered, “right before they do something that destroys me.”

He closed his eyes. “This isn’t how I wanted this conversation to happen.”

“No,” she said, voice tremoring with hurt, “you didn’t want it to happen at all.”

He stepped closer. Too close.

His warmth brushed her skin.

“Look at me,” he murmured.

“I am,” Savannah said, chin lifting, “and I don’t like what I’m seeing.”

Jackson flinched as if she’d struck him.

She moved past him, toward the door, but his voice halted her.

“Savannah, please.”

Please.

The word was soft. Unexpected.

If she hadn’t known better, she’d swear it cracked.

“I won’t be handled,” she said without turning. “Not by you. Not by your father. Not by Delilah. If I stay in this house, I’m not an object on a spreadsheet.”

“You’re right,” he said hoarsely. “You’re not.”

There was something raw in his voice, but she didn’t trust it. Not yet.

“I’m going to my father’s today,” she said. “I need air. Space. Time to think.”

Jackson stepped forward quickly. “I’ll come with you.”

“No,” she said. “You won’t.”

His brow furrowed. “Savannah, ”

“You made decisions without me.” Her voice was quiet, trembling with restrained fire. “Now I am making one without you.”

She walked toward the door, 

But Jackson moved faster, catching her wrist, not harshly, not painfully, but firmly enough to stop her.

“Don’t shut me out,” he said. “Not now.”

Savannah turned slowly. “You shut me out first.”

That landed.

She saw it in the way his shoulders dropped.

His grip loosened, fingers brushing her wrist with something close to regret.

“I didn’t know how to include you,” he admitted. “I’ve never had to navigate… this.”

“Marriage?” she asked.

“Trust,” he corrected quietly.

The word punched through her breath.

But she wasn’t ready to soften. Not yet. Not when her entire world felt rigged, controlled, orchestrated.

“Let go,” she whispered.

He did.

She walked out.

Three hours later, Savannah stepped into the private care facility where her father lived. The familiar scent of warm linen and disinfectant washed over her. Nurses smiled, staff nodded, someone called her name with recognition, but Savannah barely heard them.

Her father’s room was quiet.

Sunlight fell across the bed.

And there he was.

Elliot Montgomery.

Fragile. Thin. But smiling as always.

“Munchkin,” he whispered when he saw her.

Savannah rushed to his side, tears stinging her eyes. She kissed his forehead, inhaling the clean scent of soap and peppermint tea.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, brushing his hair back gently.

“Better now that you’re here,” he said. “Are you eating? Sleeping? You look pale.”

She laughed wetly. “You always were too observant.”

“I’m your father,” he said softly. “I know when something’s wrong.”

Savannah didn’t answer. She didn’t trust herself not to break apart.

Her father squeezed her hand weakly. “Tell me.”

She swallowed. “Dad… I think I made a mistake.”

He frowned. “With the marriage?”

She nodded.

He sighed. “Savannah… you’ve always been brave. But bravery is not the same as being alone.”

She rested her forehead against his hand. “I don’t know who to trust.”

“Start with yourself,” he whispered. “Then decide if the man you married is worth the risk of trusting.”

Savannah froze.

Because that, 

That was the question she hadn’t let herself ask.

“Is he?” her father pressed.

“I… don’t know,” she whispered.

A knock sounded on the door.

Savannah stiffened.

The door opened, and a nurse peeked in.

“Ms. Montgomery?” she said softly. “You have a visitor in the lobby.”

Savannah frowned. “I didn’t tell anyone I was coming.”

The nurse hesitated. “She said it was urgent.”

“She?” Savannah murmured.

The nurse nodded. “She said her name is Delilah Monroe.”

Savannah’s stomach dropped.

Her father squeezed her hand. “Go,” he whispered. “Whatever she wants… you need to know.”

Savannah stood.

Her pulse thundered.

She left the room, walked down the hall, turned the corner, 

and froze.

Delilah Monroe sat on one of the waiting room chairs, legs crossed elegantly, looking bored and devastatingly calm.

When she saw Savannah, she smiled.

“Hello, Mrs. Sterling,” she said. “Let’s talk.”

Savannah’s voice was ice. “If you came to threaten me again, ”

Delilah raised a hand. “Relax. I’m not here for Jackson.”

She leaned forward.

“I’m here for you.”

Savannah narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

Delilah’s smile faded.

“Because your husband isn’t the only one Harrison Sterling is planning to destroy.”

Savannah stepped back. “What are you talking about?”

Delilah reached into her bag and offered a folded legal document.

Savannah hesitated.

Delilah’s voice dropped to a whisper that sent a chill down Savannah’s spine.

“Your father,” she said. “Harrison has plans for him too.”

Savannah snatched the papers and unfolded them, 

, her world shattered.

Delilah watched her expression change and whispered the words that would change everything:

“Now do you understand why I warned you?”

The chapter ended with Savannah staring at the document, realizing she wasn’t just Jackson’s wife.

She was a target.