My phone buzzes. It’s Luca.
Luca:Whitmore's been quiet. No movement since yesterday. Edgar's lawyers are stalling—they know what's coming.
I type back:Good. Let them stall. I have other priorities right now.
Luca:The case against them is solid. We can move forward whenever you're ready.
Soon.I pause, then add:But I'm handling Whitmore personally.
Thaddeus Whitmore is a threat. A loose end. A man who thinks he has a claim on what's mine.
And I'm going to end him.
Some threats need to be eliminated. Some men need to understand that there are lines you don't cross. And Thad has crossed every single one of them.
I'm going to find him. And then I'm going to make sure he can never threaten my family again.
The plan is simple. I'll wait until Savannah is discharged, until we're home and she's rested. I'll make sure she's safe and guarded, with Marco and Tony and every resource I have. I’ll make sure no one can get to her while I go after Thad with Luca at my back.
I'll go to Thad's apartment. I'll walk in like I own the place—because in every way that matters, I do own him now. I own his future. I own his reputation. I own every secret he's tried to hide. I'll make him see that. And then?—
The sound of footsteps in the hallway interrupts my thoughts. I frown, turning toward the door. It's too early for the nurses' rounds, too early for visitors.
The door opens.
Thaddeus Whitmore walks into the room.
For a moment, I can't process what I'm seeing. He looks like hell. His face is bruised with the remnants of when I broke his nose weeks ago. His clothes are wrinkled. His eyes are wild and unfocused. The eyes of a man who has nothing left to lose. "How did you—" I start, but he cuts me off.
"You think I don't have resources?" His voice is rough. "You think I can't find out where she is? Where you took her?"
He's swaying slightly, and I realize he's drunk. Or high. Or both. This is worse than I thought.
"You need to leave." I move between him and Savannah's bed, blocking his view of her. "Now. Before I call security."
"Security?" He laughs. "You mean your thugs? Your criminals? The people you have watching her like she's some kind of prisoner?"
"She's not a prisoner. She's?—"
"She's mine!" He's shouting now, and I see Savannah stir in the bed behind me. "She was always mine! We were engaged! We were supposed to get married, and you—you stole her! You manipulated her! You got her pregnant like some kind of?—"
"Careful." My voice is cold, flat. "Be very careful what you say next."
"Or what?" He takes a step closer, and I can smell the alcohol on him. "You'll kill me? Like you killed that man in the photos? Like you've killed how many other people, Romeo?"
He spits my name like it's poison.
"Savannah saw those photos," he continues, and there's a manic edge to his voice now. "She saw what you are. What you're capable of. And she still chose you. Do you know how that feels? To lose to a monster?"
"I'm not?—"
"You are!" He's screaming now. "You're a monster! You're a criminal! You're everything her father warned her about, and she chose you anyway! She threw away everything—her family, her future, her reputation—for you!"
Behind me, I hear Savannah's voice, weak and confused: "Romeo? What's?—"
"Stay in bed," I say without turning around. "Don't move."
"How touching." Thad's voice drips with venom. "Still trying to protect her. Still trying to control her. That's all you know how to do, isn't it? Control. Manipulate. Possess."
