Page 60 of Freeing Savannah

Feeling the familiar pressure behind her eyes that heralded a migraine, she rubbed her temples, trying to alleviate the building tension. This was too much. She had to wonder what the endgame was in all of this. “Why? Why would anyone want me to doubt you?” she asked.

Sawyer stepped closer, slow and deliberate. “Because whoever’s behind this—whoever orchestrated the bathroom lockdown, the tainted water, and maybe even the attack in Baku—knows I’m your shield. And if they can make you question me, it weakens both of us.”

Her throat tightened. It made sense. Itshouldmake sense.

But trust didn’t just return with a logical explanation, it had to be felt. Earned. And right now, her nerves were frayed, her body still humming from the intimacy of the night before, her mind recoiling from this new betrayal of reality.

“What are we gonna do?” she whispered at her wit’s end.

He cupped her face in his hands, his warm palms soothing her rattled senses. “First, we’re gonna take a breath.” She did exactly that, following his lead. “Then I’m gonna contact my team and get Haley working on this. She’ll find out who sent that video. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“Okay,” she said, letting out another deep breath.

“And Savi? We are not going to let doubts stirred by an outsider destroy what’s between us. I love you, my Savi Moon. I have since we were kids. And nothing is ever gonna change that.”

She saw the sincerity in his eyes even as her pulse pounded so loudly in her ears she could hardly hear the words. Despite the quick wave of doubt she’d felt upon first seeing that video, she knew one thing for certain now. And it was undeniable. “I . . . I love you too.”

They lost themselves in the kiss, then in each other. Sawyer was right. She was not going to let doubts stirred by outsidersruin this. That fragile thread of trust was stitched back together with something so strong it could never be broken.

Even though not everything was clear and there were still too many unanswered questions, the pieces were moving. They’d find the truth. Together.

Later, tangled in the sheets and each other’s arms, she let her head rest on his chest. His fingers stroked her back in lazy, comforting patterns.

She didn’t say the words. Neither did he.

But they lived in the silence between heartbeats, in the way he held her like she was his entire world, and in the way she let herself finally belong.

CHAPTER 25

Three daysin China and the weight of everything was beginning to press down on him like the smog that clung to the city’s skyline. The Guangzhou Opera House gleamed like a fractured crystal against the haze, its avant-garde curves blending into the landscape like it had grown out of the concrete itself. Voodoo moved through the main atrium with practiced ease, eyes scanning everything, ceiling beams, exits, shadows pooling behind sleek modern columns. His boots echoed against the polished stone floor, every step a reminder that beauty didn’t cancel out vulnerability. He’d learned his lesson from the Baku incident, refusing to ever wear those too shiny tux shoes again, hence the boots. Did they look ridiculous with his tux? Absolutely. But at least he had a reliable place to stash his knife.

To ensure the Opera House’s security remained uncompromised, he diligently circled the building inside and out, meticulously verifying the functionality and proper implementation of all security protocols. The building was an architectural marvel. Glass and steel wrapped around the performance hall like armor, but Voodoo knew better. Nothing was impenetrable.

As he turned toward the corridor leading behind the stage, the low hum of stagehands and distant tuning instruments drifted to him. Savannah would be out here soon, center stage, every spotlight on her.

And he’d be in the wings—her silent shield.

He pressed two fingers to the comm in his ear. “Haley. You there?”

A breath, then, “Yeah. Barely slept. You owe me a week on a beach after this.”

“You hate the sun.”

“Then you owe me a week in a windowless bunker with caffeine on drip.”

He smirked. “That I can do. Any luck tracking the source of the video?”

“Not directly. But someone else is sniffing around the same trail.” She paused.

That wiped the grin from Voodoo’s face. “Jester?” They’d delt with the anonymous hacker before. Haley still couldn’t figure out how he manages to get through her firewalls every time. But when he does, he leaves behind useful information.

“He break through your firewall again?”

“Like it wasn’t even there,” she muttered, and Voodoo could hear the exasperation in her voice. “The thorn in my ass. He messing in my sandbox again—left a file drop with no traceable IP and a smiley face wearing sunglasses. Jackass.”

“We really need to find this guy,” Voodoo mused.

“I know. But he’s faster than a caffeinated ferret with a VPN.”

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