Page 44 of Fallen Heir

The door creaked open behind me. I didn’t have to turn around.

He crossed the room in long strides. No words at first. Just silence, the weight of it settling between us like smoke.

“She’s at the condo,” he finally said. “Didn’t ask questions, I think she knows we’re more than just businessmen.”

I exhaled through my nose. Of course she did.

“She’s sharp,” Ben added. “You sure about keeping her in the dark?”

I turned toward him slowly, the weight of everything crashing down in my gut. “You should’ve seen her face.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t blink.

“She’s scared to death of him,” I went on. “I saw a scar on her leg... It was vicious. Still red. Still unhealed. That wasn’t from years ago. That was recent. Fresh. And if there’s one, there’s more. It’s not just fear—she’sterrified.”

I crossed to my desk and picked up the papers I’d been staring at since I came back to my office this morning. Needing to give myself a little space to breath. I held the papers out like they were poison.

“This—this is the only leverage he has left.”

Ben stepped forward and took the document from my hands, scanning the lines until he reached the one that mattered.

“In the event of the death of Savannah Starling,”he read,“all assets, including trust holdings, default to next of kin.”

He looked up, his jaw tight. “And he’s the only one that qualifies.”

I nodded once.

Ben kept reading.“Irrevocable unless contested with intent to dissolve.”

He met my eyes, and I saw the same realization hit him that had hit me hours ago.

“If she files for divorce…” he started.

“She won’t,” I cut in. “Not willingly. Not while she’s still trying to live in peace. And not if it risks dragging all of this back into the light. Dragging him back to her.”

Ben folded the paper and handed it back. “So we do it without her.”

I dropped into the chair behind my desk, fingers already dialing the encrypted line I hadn’t touched in years.

“She doesn’t need to know,” I murmured. “Not until it’s done. Not until she’s safe.”

Ben crossed his arms. “You think removing the clause will stop him?”

“If killing her doesn’t get him the money, he’s got nothing to gain.” I paused. “And men like him? They don’t take risks unless there’s a payoff.”

The line connected. A voice on the other end answered, low and clipped.

“Yeah,” I said. “It’s Westbrook. I need a divorce filed. Quietly. No leaks. And I need a prenup contested before sunrise.”

Ben stared at me as I hung up, his gaze unreadable. “You ever gonna tell her what you’re doing for her?”

I leaned back in my chair and looked out the window, eyes fixed on the skyline like it could give me answers.

“She’s been through enough. She doesn’t need to know what depths of hell we’re going to have to go through because of her last name.”

Because if Bruce wanted a war—

Then he was about to learn what it meant to go to war with a man who had only one thing to lose.