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Chapter 3
Savannah’s heart dropped. She lunged forward, knocking Grayson to the ground, and snatched the acceptance letter from his hand.
“Just–just materials for an art project. Nothing important.”
Grayson frowned as he got up, brushing dust off his suit jacket.
“Savannah, you’re not a kid anymore. Keep your hands to yourself.”
“There’s a dinner party tomorrow night. Clean yourself up. You’re coming with me.
Savannah didn’t want to go, but she had to keep a low profile.
For the next seven days, she had to act like nothing had changed.
”
The Whitaker family’s car pulled up in front of the hotel. As soon as Savannah stepped out, she heard the host’s voice from the door.
“Mr. Whitaker, it’s been ages. And the young lady with you–such elegance. I assume this is your fiancée, Miss Langley?”
Madeline, dressed in a custom scarlet gown with jewels glittering on her neck, giggled behind her perfectly manicured fingers.
“Oh, Mr. Townsend, you’re teasing. I’m just Mr. Whitaker’s assistant.”
She batted her lashes toward Savannah, her words laced with poison. “At least I’m healthy and easy on the eyes. Not… fragile like Miss
Langley.”
Grayson chuckled and tapped Madeline’s nose fondly. “Sweet talker. Just remember, not everyone’s as tolerant as I am.”
Madeline stuck her tongue out, leaning into his shoulder. “I’m just telling the truth… unless, of course, you’re hoping I’ll be something more than just your assistant?”
Savannah couldn’t watch any longer. She turned to leave.
“The party’s about to start. Where are you going?” Gra
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“Don’t throw a tantrum in public. Are you trying to embarrass me?” He walked off with Madeline in his arms, never once glancing
back.
Savannah trailed a few paces behind. Her simple white dress looked painfully out of place among the glitter and glamour–like she was someone’s help.
People in these circles loved to kick you when you’re down. Seeing how Grayson treated her, others didn’t bother hiding their contempt
either.
A few rounds in, a visibly intoxicated Brandon Rowe lumbered over–the eldest son of the Rowe family.
Swirling his whiskey, he leaned in to touch Savannah’s chin. “Well, if it isn’t the little Langley girl. Used to be locked away like some princess in a tower. Gotta say, up close… you’re even softer than I imagined.”
Savannah recognized him immediately.
Back when she rarely left the house, Brandon and his crew would linger outside her window, calling her a ‘sickly little tease‘–the kind who’d surprise you once the lights went out.
Grayson once stormed into the Rowe estate and beat him within an inch of his life.
Clearly, Brandon hadn’t let it go.
She stumbled back, but he was faster–one hand grabbing her waist, the other already sliding up her thigh.
“Stop pretending to be some untouchable princess. Your man’s got a new toy now–you’re yesterday’s trash. I’m the only one who’d still want you.”
Savannah panicked. She grabbed a wine glass from the table and threw the drink in his face.
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Brandon dropped to the floor, screaming, “What the hell?! You little bitch!”
The scuffle drew every eye–conversations cut off, glasses frozen mid–air.
Madeline, standing beside Grayson, gasped in mock surprise. “Savannah, what are you doing?! The Rowe family is one of Whitaker Corp’s major partners. Are you trying to ruin the deal?”
Grayson’s expression darkened instantly.
Madeline quickly asked a server to fetch a towel, crouched to help Brandon up, and fussed over him with practiced sweetness. “I’m so
sorry, everyone. Savannah hasn’t been out in a while. She’s just… not used to people.”
“If anyone’s at fault, it’s me. I should’ve kept a closer eye on her. She’s still recovering, after all.”
A wave of whispers surged around the room.
“Heart condition or not, that doesn’t excuse her behavior. Probably just a spoiled brat who never grew up.
“She’s only still standing because of the Whitakers. Without them, no one would tolerate her attitude.”
“Fell from high society and brought the drama with her. Even the assistant has more class.”
“Poor Grayson–stuck with a hysterical mess like that.
Brandon, emboldened by the support, scoffed, “Mr. Whitaker, how are we settling this?”
The whispers crashed over her like a wave. Savannah turned to Grayson, her voice cracking. “Please… just this once. Believe me. He
came at me first. I only—”
“Oh, Miss Langley,” Brandon interrupted smugly. “Slander won’t get you anywhere. The Rowes still have a name to protect. Unless someone saw it, it didn’t happen.”
Silence. No one stepped in.
Grayson didn’t even look at Savannah. He walked straight to Brandon. “Three extra points on the Westside project. Call it an apology.”
Brandon’s grin widened. “Now we’re talking. Might want to leash your woman tighter.”
Just like that, Savannah was branded a spoiled, violent mess.
She stood there, humiliated–first assaulted, now betrayed.
“Grayson.” Her voice trembled. “Just once. You won’t even trust me once?”
“Don’t tell me you think you’re some untouchable goddess.”
Grayson turned, sneering. “Brandon swore on his family’s name he’d never touch you. Not even a finger.”
He grabbed her arm and dragged her behind a pillar, throwing her against the wall.
“I know you’re still mad about Maddie. So what–now you’re trying to use the Rowes to get back at me? Fine, I’ll pay the price. But your obsession with destroying her is pitiful.”
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