Page 67 of Fallen Heir

“All right, I think you got it from here,” Ben said quietly, giving me one last look—apologetic, almost pained.

I grabbed his arm before he turned. “Hey, it’s not your fault. It could’ve happened at anytime.” He nodded, but I knew the words hadn’t registered. He walked out of the door, leaving me alone with Jaxson.

I collapsed onto the couch, the cushions swallowing me as the soreness in my limbs reminded me of everything that transpired just twenty-four hours ago. My body was still catching up to the trauma, each movement stiff and hollow. Jaxson followed behind me, shutting the door softly, but the sound seemed to echo too loud in the stillness.

The tension in the room didn’t ease—it thickened, clinging to every breath like smoke that wouldn’t clear.

He didn’t speak.

Neither did I.

I sat with my eyes on the coffee table, hands clasped tightly in my lap, trying to make sense of the question that had been clawing at my throat since the hospital. My voice was low, steady, but even I could hear the edge underneath it when I finally asked, “Alex said something. Something about a divorce.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw him go still.

“I mean… I want one,” I added, forcing the words out like they didn’t taste bitter. “Of course I do. But I haven’t filed anything. Because I know what that’ll do. I know it’ll piss him off. But… I don’t understand what Alex meant.”

His silence wrapped around the room like a second skin.

I turned my head slowly.

And that’s when I saw it.

He knew exactly what Alex was talking about.

The way his shoulders stiffened. The faint twitch in his jaw.

The careful, measured breath he took like he was buying time. Every part of him changed—just enough to set off every warning bell inside me.

It was like watching someone put on armor. His walls flew up so fast I could almost hear the clang of steel behind his eyes.

He wasn’t confused. He wasn’t surprised.

He was prepared.

And suddenly, I didn’t need him to say anything at all. But he did.

“We found a loophole,” he said finally. “In your prenup.”

The blood drained from my face. I stared at him, something cold curling in my chest.

“My prenup?” I asked, slowly. “How in the hell did you even get that?”

He stepped forward a little, cautious. “Savannah, sit down.”

“Iamsitting,” I snapped, sharper than I intended. “What are you talking about?”

“Just… let me explain.” He said, studying my face as if he was about to take the hardest test of his life.

I didn’t answer. I didn’t move either.

And that’s when I realized something was off. Way off. Jaxson was always precise—measured. He didn’t miss things. But he’d told me to sit when I wasn’t standing to begin with. That wasn’t like him. He was rattled.

And ifhewas rattled, I knew whatever he was about to say… it wasn’t going to be good.

“When Bruce called you that day,” he started, “Ben and I began digging. We needed to know what we were up against—what he wanted. What his endgame was.”

My spine straightened, the weight of it all pressing down hard. “He wants me dead,” I said flatly. “That’s what he wants.”