Chapter 4 - The Woman in White
Savannah Calloway arrived the next morning in a white Range Rover and nearly got shot by three different people before she reached the front door.
June watched through the window.
“That the fiancée?”
“Yes.”
“She always dress like she’s attending a yacht funeral?”
I nearly choked on my coffee.
Savannah stepped inside ten minutes later.
No father.
No brother.
One female security guard remained outside.
Savannah removed oversized sunglasses.
Her eyes found me immediately.
Then my stomach.
Something complicated moved across her face.
“Wow.”
I folded my arms.
“That’s one way to greet someone.”
“I meant…” She exhaled. “You’re really pregnant.”
“Apparently that happens sometimes.”
Her mouth twitched.
I understood instantly why Declan tolerated her.
Savannah looked toward him.
“You could’ve mentioned she was funny.”
Declan did not respond.
She turned back to me.
“I owe you an apology.”
“Yes.”
Savannah blinked.
Most people probably told rich women their apologies weren’t necessary.
I had lost that instinct somewhere between burning an ultrasound and being chased through a mountain alley.
She nodded.
“Fair.”
We moved into the library.
Gavin closed the doors.
Savannah remained standing.
“My brother knows about the succession clause.”
Declan’s jaw tightened.
“How?”
“Malcolm.”
The name dropped like a stone.
Savannah continued.
“Roman has been meeting him for months.”
“Proof?”
She removed a flash drive from her handbag.
“Audio.”
Gavin took it.
“Where did this come from?”
“My father records everyone.”
Declan laughed without humor.
“Of course he does.”
Savannah looked at me.
“My family isn’t exactly healthy.”
“I noticed.”
She actually smiled.
Then disappeared back into seriousness.
“The engagement was my father’s idea, but Malcolm encouraged it.”
“Why?” I asked.
“To isolate Declan.”
Savannah sat.
“If Declan married me, any child from the marriage would tie Voss succession to Calloway interests. Malcolm believed he could control the trust through both families.”
“And me?”
“You ruined the math.”
My hand settled protectively over my belly.
Savannah’s expression softened.
“When Malcolm learned you were seeing Declan seriously, he had you watched.”
“Before I was pregnant.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Declan doesn’t have relationships.”
I glanced toward him.
Savannah continued.
“Not real ones. You were the first woman he brought around people who mattered. Malcolm assumed eventually there might be a child.”
Declan spoke.
“Why kill Amelia instead of arranging an accident for me?”
“Because your death triggers a different trust provision.”
Gavin nodded.
“The assets transfer to an external foundation.”
I stared.
The criminal empire had estate planning more complicated than most governments.
Savannah folded her hands.
“Malcolm needs Declan alive and childless.”
June, who had entered without permission carrying a tray of biscuits, said, “That is the strangest sentence I have heard this month.”
Nobody disagreed.
We listened to the recordings.
Malcolm’s voice was unmistakable.
Calm.
Educated.
Almost paternal.
“The Hart woman presents unnecessary unpredictability.”
Roman replied.
“You want her gone?”
“I want the Voss succession structure preserved.”
“And if she’s carrying his kid?”
A pause.
“Then neither reaches the end of the pregnancy.”
I stopped breathing.
Declan stood so quickly his chair struck the floor.
Gavin paused the recording.
“No.”
Declan’s hands were clenched.
“No more.”
I could not move.
There is something different about fearing a faceless enemy and hearing a man you have eaten dinner with discuss your unborn child like a line in a budget.
I remembered Malcolm pouring wine.
Asking about my work.
Complimenting a painting.
All while perhaps deciding whether I should live.
Declan crossed the room.
He stopped in front of me.
“Amelia.”
I hated that I wanted him close.
Hated that fear made old instincts stronger.
“Don’t tell me I’m safe.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Good.”
“I’m going to make you safe.”
“That sounds similar.”
He flinched.
I stood.
“Our daughter does not belong to your trust.”
“I know.”
“She is not a succession mechanism.”
“I know.”
“I don’t care who controls your money.”
“Neither do I.”
Savannah laughed once.
Everyone looked at her.
“Sorry.”
She shook her head.
“My entire family would murder each other over that sentence.”
Declan ignored her.
“I’m dissolving the trust.”
Gavin stared.
“You can’t.”
“I can.”
“Not without a majority council vote.”
“Then I’ll remove the council.”
“That sounds healthy,” June muttered.
Declan looked at Savannah.
“If the engagement ends now, what does Patrick do?”
“My father panics.”
“Roman?”
“Accelerates.”
“Good.”
Savannah’s eyebrows rose.
“Good?”
“We stop reacting.”
Gavin seemed to understand.
“You want Roman and Malcolm to think we’re divided.”
“Yes.”
My stomach tightened.
“No.”
Declan looked at me.
“No what?”
“I know that expression.”
“What expression?”
“The one where you decide something dangerous and explain it after.”
Savannah glanced between us.
“Oh, she knows you very well.”
I ignored her.
“What are you planning?”
Declan answered.
“We announce the engagement is off.”
Savannah nodded slowly.
“My father blames you.”
“Publicly.”
“He’ll enjoy that.”
“Roman assumes the alliance collapsed.”
“And Malcolm?”
“Believes Amelia is still missing.”
I stared.
“You want them to think you haven’t found me.”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
“We give Malcolm an opportunity to move.”
“That’s your plan?”
“Part of it.”
“Your plans always have terrible second parts.”
Savannah laughed again.
Declan almost did.
I did not.
“I’m not bait.”
His face changed.
“No.”
“I mean it.”
“So do I.”
“You thought about it.”
“No.”
“Declan.”
“I thought about how they might perceive you. Not using you.”
There was a difference.
Small.
But real.
He turned to Gavin.
“Move Amelia and June to the lake property.”
“No.”
I stood.
Declan’s eyes narrowed.
“Amelia.”
“I’m finished being moved.”
“This is not about control.”
“It always becomes control with you.”
“What do you want me to do?”
The question stopped me.
He genuinely looked like he didn’t know.
I breathed.
“I want information.”
“You have it.”
“All of it.”
Silence.
“No more decisions about me without me.”
He nodded.
“No guards entering my room.”
“Done.”
“No tracking device hidden in my clothes or phone.”
Gavin suddenly became interested in the ceiling.
I stared at him.
“Gavin.”
He cleared his throat.
“There may currently be a tracker in your bag.”
June laughed so hard she had to sit down.
Declan glared at Gavin.
“Remove it.”
Gavin looked offended.
“You told me—”
“Remove it.”
I pointed at Declan.
“That. Exactly that.”
“I’m learning.”
“You are thirty-seven.”
“Late learner.”
Savannah covered her mouth.
For the first time in months, despite everything, I laughed.
Declan stared at me.
The room changed.
His expression softened in the way it used to when I laughed unexpectedly.
I stopped.
But the moment had happened.
And both of us knew it.
That afternoon, Savannah’s engagement ring disappeared from her finger.
At 4:00 p.m. Eastern time, Calloway representatives leaked the story.
At 4:17, financial media reported that the Voss-Calloway engagement had ended.
At 4:29, Savannah publicly blamed “irreconcilable differences regarding family expectations.”
At 4:31, Chicago social media exploded.
At 5:02, Roman Calloway called Malcolm Rusk.
Gavin intercepted the call.
“He found her,” Roman said.
Malcolm paused.
“Evidence?”
“The engagement is finished.”
“That proves nothing.”
“It proves he chose something else.”
Malcolm’s voice lowered.
“Then locate Gavin Roarke.”
Declan frowned.
“Why Gavin?”
The recording continued.
“Roarke will know where the woman is.”
Roman said, “And if he doesn’t cooperate?”
Malcolm’s answer was immediate.
“He will.”
Gavin looked strangely calm.
Declan looked furious.
But I noticed something else.
Gavin wasn’t surprised.
“Gavin,” I said.
He looked at me.
“What?”
“Why aren’t you surprised?”
Silence.
Declan turned.
Gavin exhaled.
“Because Malcolm has leverage on me.”
Declan’s expression went still.
“What leverage?”
Gavin looked at the floor.
Then at his oldest friend.
“My brother.”
Declan frowned.
“You don’t have a brother.”
“Yes.”
Gavin’s voice cracked for the first time.
“I do.”
He took out his phone.
Opened a photograph.
A young man sat in a wheelchair beside a window.
Maybe twenty-five.
Thin.
Smiling.
“His name is Sean.”
Declan stared.
“Why have I never heard of him?”
“Because your father had him hidden after Sean witnessed something seventeen years ago.”
The room became completely silent.
Declan’s voice turned cold.
“What did he witness?”
Gavin looked at Savannah.
Then me.
May you like
Then Declan.
“Your father’s murder.”
