Page 18 of Fallen Heir

Something in me knew she was meant to be with me. And I wanted her to feel that too.

I had a charity event this weekend—a black-tie fundraiser at the Met my mother used to host every year. I never met her—she died giving birth to me—but from the stories, I feel like she would’ve loved Savannah. Graceful. Strong. Scared, maybe. But not broken. Not even close.

I’d planned to take her there. Let the public see her. Ease into the spotlight.

Truth was, it wasn’t just for her. It was for me. If she didn’t know about her father—or the filth buried beneath his legacy—then stepping into the light would draw Bruce out. It would lead him to me.

And I’d be ready. I’d have the advantage, because I’d anticipate him. I’d know what was coming when he tried to claim what I wanted to be mine—even if, legally, she was still his.

I’d find a way to fix that too.

Just as I turned back to grab my phone, the door swung open without a knock. Only one person in my life walked in like that.

Benjamin Ford. Former Navy SEAL. Tracker. The man I trusted to handle the parts of my world that couldn’t afford mistakes.

He didn’t say a word at first. Just shut the door behind him and dropped a file on my desk. Thick. Heavy. Loaded with names and photos I hadn’t seen before. He didn’t have to tell me what it meant—he’d found them. The connections. The bloodlines. The danger.

For the life of me, I didn’t know why I’d waited so long to tell him about Savannah. In three days, he’d uncovered more than I had in months. And now, he was invested.

The kind of invested that didn’t just end with research. Ben didn’t play defense. He hunted threats before they could take a step. And if it came down to it, I knew without question—he’d risk everything to protect her.

He was like a hound on a scent—driven, relentless. Never distracted. Never off course. My stomach tightened. “If you’re about to ruin my afternoon,” I said, stepping back around the desk, “at least lie to me first.”

Ben didn’t smile. “It’s about her.”

Savannah.

My spine stiffened. “Talk.”

He leaned forward, flipping open the folder. “You asked me to find out everything I could about her husband. Bruce. I dug deeper. Didn’t like what I found, Jax.”

I stayed silent, my hands clenched behind the desk.

“You were right—Bruce worked for her father.”

I blinked. “Great. Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Before the wedding. Not after. Not once the family ties were public.Before.Years before. Under the table. Quite assignments. Logistics. Rumors say he was helping establish routes—nothing headline-worthy, but enough to prove loyalty.”

“Did she know?” I asked.

Ben shook his head. “I don’t think so. No records tie her directly to it. If I had to guess...” He paused. “The marriage was arranged. By her father. Could’ve been a business merger. Or a way to pull Bruce in deeper. Either way—she wasn’t just marrying a man. She was being used.”

A pawn. And a valuable one at that.

I sank into my chair, the weight of it pressing down hard.

“There’s more,” Ben continued. “Right around the time they got married, Bruce’s family suddenly came into serious money. Cars, property, accounts opened overseas.”

“But here’s where it gets worse.” Ben dropped another photo on the desk. “Bruce didn’t stay on your typical mafia route. He went darker. Started making moves in human trafficking. Built connections Walter wouldn’t touch. Something happened. Some kind of fracture. But I can’t pinpoint it yet.”

We both paused, letting the weight of it all sink in.

“Savannah signed a prenup,” Ben added, voice tight. “The only clause that holds weight? If she dies—he gets everything.”

My jaw clenched. I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

That wasn’t a marriage. It was a setup. A death sentence wrapped in diamond rings and forged signatures.