All Chapters of The Ties That Binds : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

“Jackson, stop walking away from me!”Savannah’s voice cracked through the cold hallway, sharp enough to slice through the tension pulsing between them. Jackson stopped mid-stride, shoulders rigid, breath shallow. The shadows from the wall sconces carved angles across his face as he slowly turned toward her.“I’m not walking away,” he growled quietly. “I’m trying not to say something I can’t take back.”“Well, congratulations,” Savannah snapped, stepping closer, chin lifted. “You’re doing a terrible job.”Jackson exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. The movement, usually controlled, was jagged, uncalculated. “You don’t understand what’s at stake.”“Then make me understand,” Savannah threw back. “Because right now, all I see is a man who keeps shutting me out of the very same mess he dragged me into!”His jaw tensed. She could see the storm brewing behind his eyes, anger, fear, guilt, all crashing into each other like waves hitting concrete. For once, Jackson Sterling did

“Savannah, wait.”Jackson’s voice chased her down the hallway, low and urgent, echoing against the tall marble pillars of the Sterling mansion. She didn’t stop. Her footsteps were fast, sharp, every step fueled by the weight of everything she had seen, heard, and pieced together in the last few hours.She was done being the quiet pawn in their game.But Jackson caught her wrist before she reached the staircase.“Savannah, look at me.”She tried to pull away. “Let go.”“No.” His grip tightened, not painfully, but with a firmness that said he wasn’t letting her bolt again. “Not until you hear me.”“I’ve heard enough,” she snapped, finally turning to face him. Her eyes glistened with the anger she’d been swallowing all night. “About the trust fraud. About your father’s manipulation. About Delilah. About the files. About how I was dragged into this mess without even being told why!”Jackson swallowed hard. “I was trying to protect you.”“By lying?” she bit out. “By letting me walk straigh

“Savannah, stop walking away from me.”Jackson’s voice cracked through the hallway like a whip, low and strained, the kind of tone that made the air turn sharp. Savannah didn’t slow. Her heels struck the marble floor in quick, furious clicks, echoing through the Sterling mansion like sparks ready to ignite a fire.“I’m not doing this with you right now,” she shot back, not bothering to look over her shoulder.“You don’t get to decide that,” he said, closing the distance with long, deliberate strides.She spun around so fast her hair whipped across her face. “You’ve decided everything else! You don’t get to decide my feelings too!”Their breaths clashed in the narrow corridor, charged, heavy, the space pulsing with everything they hadn’t said in days. Jackson looked like a man on the edge, jaw tight, eyes burning, the muscle in his cheek ticking with barely contained emotion.“Savannah,” he said, voice dropping to something rawer, “I never meant for you to get caught in the middle of t

“Savannah, open the door.”Jackson’s voice was low, rough, scraped raw at the edges. The kind of voice he only had when the world outside was burning and he was holding the match. Savannah froze in the middle of the dim guest room, her hands trembling over the stack of documents she’d been avoiding all night , the financial reports, the edited contract, the new terms Harrison’s lawyers had “accidentally” forwarded to her inbox.Her pulse jolted again as Jackson’s knuckles brushed the door once more.“S, Savannah,” he said, quieter this time. “Please.”That word.Please.It wasn’t one Jackson Sterling used.Savannah swallowed hard, stepped to the door, and cracked it open only an inch.Jackson stood on the other side, shirt rumpled, tie loose, hair pushed back by impatient fingers. His eyes , normally cold, sharp, controlled , were restless, haunted.“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said.“I needed space.” Savannah tried to keep her voice steady, but the last twenty-four hours had been a

“Savannah, listen to me, stand behind me.”Jackson’s voice was low, sharp, already shifting into the tone he used when danger brushed too close. Savannah didn’t argue; the tremor in his voice told her enough. She stepped behind him just as the elevator doors slid open, revealing two unfamiliar men in dark suits, shoulders squared, eyes locked directly on Jackson.They didn’t belong to Sterling security.“Who sent you?” Jackson asked, voice steady.Neither man answered. One simply stepped forward, blocking the exit, while the other raised a hand as though signaling for quiet.Savannah’s pulse hammered. The office floor was empty, too empty, after the strategic meeting earlier that evening. The silence felt heavy, unnatural. Something was wrong. Very wrong.The taller man spoke. “Mr. Sterling, you’re needed downstairs.”Jackson didn’t move. “By who?”“Harrison Sterling,” the man replied.Savannah stiffened. Jackson’s father.Jackson’s jaw tightened, a flash of anger cutting through his