Chapter 2 - Savannah’s Pregnancy
Savannah was drinking wine when Adrian called.
That was the first thing he noticed.
He heard ice clink inside the glass.
He heard music.
Then her voice.
“Hi, baby.”
Adrian stood alone in his father’s study.
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“Drinking?”
Silence.
Then a small laugh.
“Sparkling water.”
Adrian looked at the photograph from the fertility clinic.
“Take a picture.”
“What?”
“Of the bottle.”
Savannah went quiet.
“Adrian, what’s wrong?”
“Are you pregnant?”
The silence lasted too long.
He felt his stomach turn.
“Savannah.”
“Of course I am.”
“Send me the ultrasound.”
“I already did.”
“The real one.”
Another pause.
Then Savannah’s voice hardened.
“Who have you been talking to?”
Adrian closed his eyes.
That was the answer.
Not denial.
Not outrage.
Who have you been talking to?
He whispered.
“You lied.”
Savannah exhaled.
“Come over.”
“No.”
“We should talk in person.”
“No.”
Adrian looked at the payment records.
“Why has Vale Industries paid your consulting company two million dollars?”
Savannah stopped breathing.
Then the call disconnected.
Adrian stared at the screen.
Richard sat across from him.
“You see how quickly affection disappears when invoices appear?”
Adrian looked furious.
“You knew she was lying to me.”
“Yes.”
“And you let me humiliate Claire.”
Richard’s expression hardened.
“I told you repeatedly to listen to your wife.”
“You told me I was distracted.”
“I was trying to avoid telling a grown man that his mistress was part of a corporate fraud operation before I had proof.”
Adrian paced.
“Ethan.”
Richard nodded.
“Ethan is involved.”
“How?”
“Claire found payments routed through his authorization credentials.”
Adrian stared toward the window.
His entire life had changed in less than three hours.
His home.
His marriage.
Savannah.
His company.
Then he thought about Noah.
The boy has his mother.
He heard his own dismissive voice.
For the first time, shame reached somewhere anger could not defend.
“Where is Claire in Washington?”
Richard answered.
“I don’t know.”
Adrian turned.
“You really don’t?”
“No.”
“She stopped telling me six weeks ago.”
“Why?”
Richard looked at him.
“Because she suspected your family would eventually choose Vale Industries over her.”
Margaret stiffened.
“That’s offensive.”
Richard gave her a cold look.
“Is it inaccurate?”
Margaret said nothing.
Richard continued.
“Claire trusted one person.”
“Who?”
“Her mother’s former attorney.”
“Benjamin Hart.”
Adrian knew the name vaguely.
Whitmore family counsel.
Retired.
Washington, D.C.
Adrian grabbed his phone.
Richard stopped him.
“If you call him, he will not tell you where she is.”
“She has my son.”
“She has her son too.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“She cannot just take him across the country.”
Richard leaned forward.
“She filed before leaving.”
“Her attorney petitioned for temporary jurisdiction based on her primary-caretaker status and your repeated absences.”
Adrian stared.
“What repeated absences?”
Richard almost laughed.
“You spent six nights out of ten with Savannah.”
“Your driver logs prove it.”
Adrian’s face went blank.
Claire had documented everything.
Then Richard handed him another page.
A list.
Hotel receipts.
Security footage.
Text-message timestamps.
Photos.
Adrian whispered.
“How long?”
“Almost a year.”
Adrian looked up.
“How long has she been planning this?”
May you like
Richard answered.
“Long enough to stop hoping you would change.”
