Page 36 of Twin Babies for the Silver Fox (Happy Ever Alpha Daddies #3)

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Knox

The kitchen’s quiet now. Too quiet.

The last clink of silverware is gone, the burners off, the lights dimmed. It should feel peaceful. But it doesn’t.

It feels like standing in the wreckage of something I can’t name.

Savannah’s perfume still lingers near Table Seven. Jasmine and something sweet I used to love, and now can’t breathe through. Her voice echoes in my skull. All those soft smiles and too casual touches, like she still owned the place. Owned me.

And Josie.

The look on her face when she saw us together.

Damn .

She didn’t say anything. Didn’t have to.

It gutted me.

But I didn’t want to show her any attention in front of Savannah. That woman doesn’t need any more ammo.

I’m still in the office, staring at the same half-filled prep sheet when Nova barges in like a woman on a mission.

“You’re lucky I didn’t drag her out by her extensions,” she says, tossing her phone on the desk in front of me. “What the hell, Knox.”

I glance down.

Eli’s latest post is splashed across the screen. One of those smarmy tabloid-style videos with music too loud and captions too eager to assume.

A freeze frame of Savannah touching my arm, me not pulling away fast enough.

#RekindledLove

#KnoxAndSavForever

#SilverPeakSighting

#PowerCoupleReunion

I close my eyes.

“Damn it,” I mutter, dragging a hand down my face.

“You know this is spreading like wildfire, right?” Nova says, pacing. “I’ve already had four reporters call the landline like it’s 2004. The landline, Knox.”

“She just showed up.”

“No kidding,” she snaps. “And you let her stay. You sat with her. In the middle of your restaurant. In front of Josie.”

My stomach twists. “I didn’t ask for this.”

“But you didn’t shut it down either,” Nova fires back, folding her arms. “And now Josie will think you’re right back in Savannah’s pocket.”

I stare at the phone again. The way Josie looked at me before she walked away plays on loop in my head. That small, tight smile like she was holding herself together with spit and string.

“She has a lot on me, Nova,” I say quietly. “Stuff I didn’t even know she kept. Contracts. Photos. PR deals I thought were dead years ago. She still has connections. Still knows how to make shit hurt.”

Nova’s frown deepens. “What kind of stuff?”

I drag a hand over my face. “The fake pregnancy. Remember that mess?”

“Urgh, all too well. Just what you needed as you left the NFL.”

I nod. “Turns out she kept everything… faked sonograms, doctored clinic receipts, emails to her publicist setting the whole thing up. She’s threatening to leak it.

Twist it. Make it look like I forced her into something ugly.

And if she does?” I glance at the phone again, a sick feeling rising in my throat.

“The Marrow’s done. The sponsors pull out.

Savannah doesn’t even have to prove it. Just suggest it. Cast doubt. That’s all it would take.”

Nova swears softly. “That bitch really is playing the long game. But that’s your past, Knox. You could survive that."

I stare at the floor. My chest is tight. "It’s not just about me."

"What do you mean?"

I drag a hand through my hair. "Savannah knows about Josie. Not the whole story. But enough. She’s been asking questions. Dropping comments. She said if I don’t play along, smile for the cameras, let her spin this comeback fantasy, she’s going to make sure Josie gets dragged ."

Nova goes still. "Dragged how?"

I exhale, slow and sharp. "She said it would be a shame if people found out Josie slept her way into the job.' That she’s just the ‘small town fling’ who hooked a name chef to get ahead. She’ll smear her all over the tabloids.

Make her look like a gold digger, a home wrecker.

Ruin her reputation, bring the intense media attention her way. ”

Nova curses under her breath. "Damn. What are you going to do?”

The weight of it presses down on me, heavy and suffocating. "I can handle my name getting dragged again. But Josie?" My voice breaks. "I can’t let Savannah destroy her, too."

I shake my head, jaw clenched. "I don’t know yet. But I need time, Nova. Time to figure out how to cut Savannah off without dragging Josie through the mud. If I push too soon, too hard... Savannah will burn her first, just to make me bleed."

My hands curl into fists against the desk.

"I'm not sitting on my ass because I'm scared. I'm waiting because Josie’s name, her life, is the only thing I care about protecting right now. Savannah’s playing a long game, and if I make the wrong move, Josie’s the one who pays. I can’t let that happen. "

Nova leans back, frowning. "You’re playing defense."

I nod. "For now. Until I figure out how to hit her where it hurts. But not at Josie's expense. Never at Josie’s expense."

Nova sighs, her anger simmering down into wary understanding. "Just don’t wait too long, Knox. Because Josie’s already hurting. And she thinks you don’t care."

I close my eyes. "I care too damn much. That’s the problem."

Nova sighs and leans back in the chair, kicking her boots up on the desk like we’re back in LA, twenty-four and invincible. “You want to know what I think?”

“Not really.”

She ignores that. “I think Savannah showed up because she smelled blood in the water. She saw you happy. Peaceful. That’s not something she can stand. Because it means you moved on without her. And you’re the one getting all the attention.”

I don’t say anything.

“You’re scared of what she might do,” she says. “And that’s okay. But if you give her even an inch, she will destroy everything that matters to you now.”

My chest tightens. “I know. I’m not dragging my feet because I’m weak or want her here. I’m doing it because I have to keep Josie safe until I can make the right move.”

“I know.” Nova drops her feet, leans in. “You’re not that man anymore. You don’t belong to her. You belong here. In this town. In that kitchen. With Josie, who, by the way, left tonight like you’d torn her heart out and didn’t even bother to notice.”

My throat closes. “I noticed.”

Nova scoffs. “Knox, if you wait too long to figure it out, you’re gonna lose the best damn thing that’s ever happened to you.”

It’s already 11 a.m., and I haven’t gotten more than three words out to Josie.

Not for lack of trying.

Every time I spot her in the kitchen, Savannah materializes like smoke, perfect hair, perfect teeth, a death grip on my elbow like I might try to run if she loosens it for a second.

“Knox, I have something else I forgot to tell you.”

“Babe, the publicist wants a quick reel in front of the brick wall. Very rustic redemption arc.”

“Smile! This is the beginning of your comeback!”

I don’t smile.

I haven’t smiled since she walked through the door.

I try again around noon, when Josie’s loading crates of produce from the walk-in. Her braid’s falling loose, cheeks pink from the cold, eyes wary the second she sees me. My chest tightens.

“Josie, can I talk to you?” I ask, stepping into her space, close enough that I can smell the citrus soap she uses. I miss the way she used to lean into me. Now, she stiffens.

Before she can answer, Savannah’s voice sings from the hallway.

“There you are, Knoxie! We need to talk wardrobe for the shoot I’m organizing. Your flannel is giving retired lumberjack, not culinary icon.”

Josie doesn’t wait. She brushes past me like I’m invisible.

And I let her go.

Because pushing now would only make it worse. Because Savannah’s watching, waiting for me to slip. And if I do, Josie’s the one who’ll bleed for it.

The next time I try, Savannah’s already on my phone. My phone. Scrolling like she owns it, pausing on texts she has no right to read. When I reach for it, she tilts her head, smile sharp as glass.

“Careful, Knoxie,” she murmurs low enough that only I hear. “One wrong move and that sweet little waitress of yours is tomorrow’s scandal. And now I have screenshots to prove it.”

My hand freezes.

“I was just seeing if Jace texted,” she says louder, beaming like a psychopath.

“He didn’t,” I lie.

But of course, he did.

Saw Savannah on TMZ next to you. You okay?

I didn’t respond.

Still can’t.

Because no, I’m not okay.

I’m barely holding it together.

She’s everywhere now, coiled around my life like she never left.

She waltzed into my restaurant and booked a fucking photo shoot like it’s 2016 and I’m still wearing a helmet and smiling for sponsors.

She brought a publicist with a clipboard, a ring light, and a vision board that says “Knox Knightly: Back and Better Than Ever.”

Like I’m a brand.

Like she has me right where she wants me.

Like none of it ever happened.

I stand there in the back hallway, staring at the prep schedule taped to the wall and seeing nothing but static. I hear Savannah’s laugh echo down the corridor. The buzz of a ring light. Someone calling “aaaand rolling!”

I taste bile.

This is how it started the first time.

The slow unraveling.

Her grip. Her spin. The lies whispered so often that they start to feel like truth.

The fake pregnancy.

The press tour.

The way she told everyone I’d snapped because of “emotional strain,” when it was her, always her, pulling every string until I couldn’t breathe anymore.

I lost everything back then.

My career.

My reputation.

My mind.

And now she’s back, narrating a second act no one asked for.

Only this time I’ve got something real to lose.

I walk past the kitchen and catch a glimpse of Josie plating appetizers with her head down, her face unreadable. She doesn’t look up. Doesn’t pause. Doesn’t flinch.

She’s already gone cold.

And I can’t blame her.

Because I know if I move too soon, Savannah will make good on her threats. Because the second I push back without a plan, Josie’s name hits every headline in the worst way possible.

And I can’t let that happen.