Page 36 of Fallen Empire (The Fallen Trilogy #2)

Savannah

I woke to darkness.

The kind that settles thick, with no streetlight bleeding through the blinds or flickering from the television. Just stillness and the subtle sound of a city sleeping beyond floor to ceiling windows of the Penthouse.

My body throbbed with a dull ache I couldn’t even locate, let alone name, but it wasn’t the pain that woke me. It was the quiet.

I blinked slowly, letting my eyes adjust. The soft hum of the air system making slight whispers overhead.

The faint scent of lavender from the blanket covering me.

And there, not far from where I lay on the sofa, Jaxson—lying on the adjacent sectional, stretched out awkwardly, like there was no other place he’d rather be.

Even in sleep, he looked like he was bracing for impact.

I angled my head as far as I could without moving and saw Millie still sitting beside me. Same position. Same hoodie with the sleeves pulled over her fists. It was as if I were something fragile, both of them trying to be my protectors.

I shifted gently, adjusting the blanket over my legs. The small movement was enough to stir them both.

Millie blinked first, eyes squinting toward me, her voice still scratchy with sleep. “Hey. You okay?”

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” I whispered.

“You didn’t,” Jaxson said groggily, his voice deeper from sleep. He pushed himself upright with a wince, running a hand through his hair. “You should be in a bed, not on the sofa.”

“I’m fine here,” I murmured. But it was Millie who answered for me.

“She’s not going anywhere,” she said, sitting up straighter. Then she turned to Jaxson, her voice low but firm. “Go to bed.”

He arched a brow. “You’re kicking me out of my own living room now?”

“Yes.” Her tone was sharp, but something about it softened at the edges. “You can sleep alone tonight, but tomorrow, she’s yours again. Let me have her now.”

His eyes flicked between us, reading the silent plea in her voice. Eventually, he stood and stretched, tossing a blanket over the back of the sofa. “You get one night,” he said, pointing at Millie. “But that’s it.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Now go before I convince her to let me move in with her.”

Jaxson leaned down and kissed the top of my head. “I’ll be down the hall.”

I nodded, watching him disappear into the shadows of the hallway.

Once the door clicked shut, Millie turned toward me. She exhaled like she’d been holding something in for days.

“I almost got married once,” she said.

The confession came out of nowhere, soft and unexpected.

I blinked. “What?” I pulled myself up to the edge of the sofa, resting my arm against the side and propping my head up to give her all my attention.

Millie looked away, her fingers twisting the edge of the blanket in her lap. “His name was Henry. We were a few months out. Had a venue, a dress, even a playlist. Then he died. Just... gone.”

“Millie…”

She shook her head quickly. “I don’t talk about it. No one really knows. I buried it the same way I buried everything else. My job. My life. All perfectly curated. No one sees the cracks.” She looked back at me, “like you.”

I reached out and laid my hand over hers. She didn’t pull away.

“What happened?” I asked, unsure if she was ready to tell me everything.

“Cancer. He had a seizure when we were tasting cake.” She let out a laugh as if she still didn’t believe it.

“A tumor had grown so large it had woven it’s way through his brain.

Surgery wasn’t an option. There was no warning.

The seizures got worse and within a week he was in a hospital bed.

He never left. It only took three weeks. ”

I wasn’t sure what to say or how to even comprehend the kind of devastation she must have gone through. But she wasn’t finished.

“Seeing you in that bed took me back to when I waited for him. I know the two weren’t the same, but it scared me more than I’d thought possible. I promised myself I’d never love anyone again, but I love you Savannah.”

“Millie, I love you, too.” And I meant every word. Because I did. She was like a lifeline I never realized I needed. I clung to her like a child to their security blanket.

“I can’t lose you Savannah. I can’t go through that again. Not that kind of hurt. Not when my heart feels like it’s fighting to stay inside of my chest.”

I understood everything she was saying. Because getting shot didn’t just bring out the fighter in me, it brought out fear as well. The fear of losing any of the people that I loved. The only people I had left. But if she was opening up, I wanted to know more.

“And Ben?” I asked gently.

She didn’t answer right away. Just stared at our hands.

“He met me after I became... this version of me. After all the walls were built. After I convinced myself that love wasn’t worth the fallout.” Her voice trembled, just slightly. “And now? I don’t know what the hell to do with him.”

I squeezed her hand. “Maybe you don’t have to figure it all out tonight.”

“No,” she smiled, watery. “Tonight, I just needed to say it. To someone that mattered.”

We didn’t speak after that. We didn’t need to. We just sat together, two women who’d survived too much, clinging to the pieces still left intact.

Eventually, sleep tugged at the corners of my vision again. I let it take me, knowing for once, I wasn’t alone.

My heart felt like it was beating out of my chest, panic rising in thick, suffocating waves. Sweat rolled down my face, dampening my neck and soaking through the fabric of my shirt. My eyes flew open, struggling to adjust to my surroundings.

It had been a nightmare, I was sure of that much, but the details slipped away like water through my fingers. All I knew was the fear still clinging to my skin.

Somewhere down the hall, I heard laughter, followed by the sound of footsteps.

I tried to wipe my face, but my hair was stuck to my cheeks. My hands trembled. Then Millie walked into the room, her smile instantly dropping the second she saw me.

“Oh my god, Vannah. What’s wrong?”

I couldn’t answer. Because I didn’t know.

She rushed over, crouching beside the sofa. Her hands moved quickly, brushing my hair back, patting around my face. Her hand flipped over as her knuckles rested on my forehead, then my cheek.

“Geez, you’re burning up,” she muttered, turning her head to shout behind her. “Bring some water in here, would you?”

Jaxson appeared moments later, carrying a few bottles. “Savannah? Hey, baby. Are you okay? You don’t look like you feel well.”

I shook my head slightly. “I’m fine. I think it’s just the meds wearing off.”

“Do you need me to get you more?”

“No,” I said quickly, my voice rough. “It’s probably just my body adjusting to not having them pumped through my veins anymore.”

They didn’t look convinced.

I took a few breaths, forcing my heart rate to settle. “Millie,” I said, glancing down at my clothes, “Can you help me to the bathroom? My shirt’s soaked.”

I didn’t miss the way Jaxson’s jaw tightened—how his eyes dropped helplessly to his hands like he wished he could do more.

And I hated that. I didn’t want him to feel useless. Not after everything he’d done.

“Jaxson,” I called softly, and he looked up. “Do you have any food? Maybe just some bread? I think I’m a little hungry.”

His whole face shifted. “Of course. Want me to order breakfast?”

“No. Just some toast is fine,” I said, trying to give him something to do. Something to feel useful. “I don’t want to cause any more trouble than I already have.”

“You’re not trouble,” he said, brushing his thumb across my temple before pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “Toast it is, but if you want something else, you let me know.”

I nodded. He set the bottles of water down and turned toward what I assumed was the kitchen. I looked around the room for the first time.

I couldn’t believe I was in his Penthouse—Jaxson’s space—and I hadn’t made it past the damn sofa.

Millie stood in front of me, her hands gently guiding my shoulders as I pushed myself upright. My vision blurred for a second at the sudden movement, but I blinked through it.

“Where do we go?” I asked, glancing around.

The place was… breathtaking. Sleek. Minimal. Expensive. Tall ceilings and matte black finishes, brushed brass hardware, a sprawling sectional the size of a small boat, and windows that made the skyline look like a painting.

“This way,” Millie said, steadying me as she led me down the hall to the left.

When we stepped into the bedroom, I stopped.

“Damn,” I whispered.

The space was massive, almost larger than my entire condo a few floors down.

A king-sized bed spanned the far wall, covered in deep charcoal sheets and an impossibly plush blanket.

On the other side, floor-to-ceiling windows lined the room, casting the early morning light across dark hardwood floors.

“You weren’t lying about the bed,” I said.

Millie smirked. “Nope. He’s got one in my room, too. I used to make him keep me company before you came along.”

I let out a soft laugh. Of course she did.

She guided me into the bathroom and I nearly gasped. It looked like something out of a five-star hotel. Marble countertops. A soaking tub framed by more of those impossibly tall windows. A rainfall shower with gold fixtures and black stone tiles. Clean. Elegant. Quiet.

And then I saw the closet.

Millie moved toward it, pulling the door open casually, and my breath caught in my throat.

My clothes were in there. Hangers filled with familiar pieces from my own closet—my sweaters, my jackets, even the silk pajamas Millie had bought not long after we met. She’d insisted they were the best pajamas ever. In her defense, they were.

He’d moved my things here.

I should’ve been angry that he’d done it without asking.

But when your life flashes before your eyes… when you wake up unsure you’ll ever see the person you love again… something inside of you changes.

Life is too short not to take chances.

And maybe, this was mine.