Chapter 4
A sudden wave of helplessness crashed over Savannah, swallowing every explanation she almost gave.
“If that’s what you think… then sure. Believe what you want.”
She used to argue with teary eyes. But when had arguing ever changed a thing?
Might as well save her strength. In a few days, none of this would matter anymore.
She bent down and slipped off her ill–fitting heels, her feet raw and blistered. Barefoot, she walked away–each step a sting.
Grayson had those shoes custom–ordered. Always called her dramatic and forced her to wear them, never once thinking–maybe they just didn’t fit.
Watching her retreating figure–lonely, humiliated–Grayson’s brow twitched unconsciously. He almost lifted his foot to follow her. Then Madeline came running out and wrapped herself around his arm like a vine.
“Mr. Whitaker, do you think Savannah’s still upset with me? Otherwise, why would she storm off and leave you hanging like that?”
The words doused him like ice water, freezing him mid–step.
What was there to feel sorry for? Savannah had brought this on herself.
Without a second glance, Grayson turned back into the hotel, leaving that fragile silhouette behind like it meant nothing.
The Rowe deal was finalized without a hitch, and not long after, Madeline used the excuse of “too busy to find an apartment” to move into the Whitaker estate like she owned the place.
“She’s an orphan,” Grayson said. “Life hasn’t been kind to her. As her employer, I can’t just cut her loose. But don’t worry–she’ll be out of your hair in a few days.”
Savannah didn’t say a word. She just sat by the window, cradling her little Bichon, Snowy.
She gently stroked the pup’s head and stayed silent.
The moment Grayson left, Madeline’s sugary act disappeared entirely.
She stormed upstairs, barged into Savannah’s studio, and started smashing things–paint cans splattered across the floor, easels overturned one by one.
Hearing the commotion, Savannah rushed in and instinctively threw herself between Madeline and her most precious pieces.
“What the hell are you doing, Madeline?!”
Madeline dragged her fingers through the paint, ruining the nearest canvas with a sneer. “These pathetic daubs offend me. As the future mistress of this house, I suppose it’s my duty to take out the trash.”
Savannah’s heart twisted in agony as her artwork–days, nights of effort was torn and destroyed like trash.
She finally stood up, trembling with fury. “Those paintings were exhibited in a gallery! They mean everything to me! You have no right”
Madeline raised an eyebrow and casually unclasped the diamond necklace around her neck, tossing it onto the floor.
“Oh? Are they worth that much? This necklace–Grayson gave it to me last week. Worth millions. Take it as compensation.”
Madeline dusted off her hands, then paused like she’d just remembered something. “Oh–almost forgot. You’re far too proud to accept charity, aren’t you? Guess they’re not worth that much after all. Let me smash a couple more. Just to round things out.”
Savannah snapped. She lunged forward and shielded a piece leaning against the wall.
It was the one she painted with her father. Two tiny figures running by a riverbank, bathed in golden sunlight stretching across the sky and water.
Chapter 4
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Fue un drama corto tan maravilloso.
Before he passed, her father had told her he’d become the sun–so he could always stay with her.
Madeline sneered and reached for it. “If you love it that much, I’ll start with this one!” She shoved Savannah aside, sending her crashing to the floor. “Let go, you psycho!”
Right then, Snowy charged in from the hallway and sank his teeth into Madeline’s wrist.
She shrieked in pain and dropped the painting–it slipped out the window.
Savannah scrambled downstairs, nearly falling over herself as she raced to retrieve it. She came back hugging the frame–Only to find Snowy locked in a cage.
Grayson sat on the sofa, his expression thunderous. Madeline sobbed beside him, her bandaged wrist in his lap.
“This is the monster you raised, Savannah?!”
Savannah clutched the cage, shielding Snowy with her whole body. “He was protecting me! If you want to blame someone, blame me!”
“Why would you twist the story like this, Savannah?” Madeline sniffled.
“You were the one losing it and smashing up your studio. I stepped in because I felt bad–wanted to save your work. And what do I get? Bitten by your dog and blamed like it’s all my fault. Should’ve just stayed out of it.”
“You’re lying! You destroyed everything!”
Savannah screamed, shaking.
“Enough!” Grayson’s voice boomed. “If you really cared about those paintings, you wouldn’t say things like that.”
Those elegant lips parted—and out came the knife. “Maybe we should just burn the whole damn room. Save everyone the drama. And that mutt? If it can bite, it doesn’t deserve to live.”
The guards moved instantly–reaching for the dog and the artwork.
Savannah fought back, but she was too weak. Her fingers throbbed as the painting was ripped from her arms.
Her vision blurred, blood rushing to her head. She stumbled a few steps, then collapsed.
On her knees, on the cold marble floor, she crawled -inch by inch–to Grayson, grabbing onto his suit jacket with everything she had. “Grayson… I’m begging you. Please…”
“That painting–it’s all I have left of my dad. And Snowy… he was there through the worst of it. They matter to me. Please don’t destroy
them…”
Grayson didn’t flinch. Didn’t even look at her. He was too busy gently inspecting Madeline’s bandage, handling her like she was glass.
The guards, never told to stop, had already lit a fire in the courtyard. Paintings crackled in the flames. Snowy’s whimpers grew fainter.
Two maids pinned Savannah back. She couldn’t move.
She stared at the growing blaze, eyes wide, throat raw. “Grayson! What the hell is wrong with you?! Did you forget everything?!”
“I don’t want your love anymore….”
Her voice broke, hopeless and shaking. “I’ll give up the paintings… I’ll give up everything… Just give me Snowy back.”
“Please. I’m begging you.”
