Chapter 15
I knew what I wanted now.
And it didn’t involve chasing after Holt family breadcrumbs.
If I wanted real freedom, I had to earn my own damn money.
So after locking in my college choice, I started working every shift I could grab. Coffee shops, freelance gigs, whatever paid. The only thing I was halfway decent at?
Photography.
Aunt Grace must’ve figured it out, because suddenly doors started opening. Clients appeared out of nowhere. Fashion events, engagement shoots, catalog work. She never said it out loud, but I knew she was behind it.
One night, after a long-ass shoot that ran past midnight, I came home dead on my feet.
The house was quiet. My phone was dead. I slipped inside, shoes in hand, moving like a ghost.
Right as I passed the living room—
“You were out late.”
I jumped like I’d been tased.
Then came the sharp click of a switch, and the chandelier blazed to life. The sudden light blinded me.
I lifted my hand to shield my face, squinting through my fingers… and there he was.
Landon Holt. Arms crossed. Leaning against the couch like he owned the air I breathed.
His voice was flat, cold. “How long are you gonna keep this tantrum up?”
I didn’t answer. Just kept walking.
He stepped forward, face darkening. “Savannah.”
“You think Logan and I spoiled you so much that now you don’t give a damn what anyone says?”
I froze at the top of the stairs, turned, and looked him dead in the eye.
“No, Landon. I think it’s the other way around.”
“You and Logan? You’ve always treated me like some pathetic side character in your little family drama. I was just the girl you tossed between you when you got bored.”
He didn’t say anything for a long moment. Just stared.
Then, as if choosing maturity for once in his damn life, he sighed.
“I know you’re pissed about how things went down with Bailey. Twice. I get it. We messed up.”
“But come on—don’t throw your future away out of spite.”
“We’re committing to Bailey. Neither of us is marrying anyone else.”
“And you? Without the Holt name, without a degree or a rich daddy? What are you gonna do, Savvy? End up like your mom? Scrubbing floors for rich folks who don’t even learn your name?”
“But hey, I’m not heartless. I’ll give you one more shot.”
“Tomorrow. Eleven a.m. flight. Don’t be late.”
I laughed.
Too bad for him, I already had a ticket for a 10 a.m. train.
To Chicago.
He must’ve thought that smirk meant I was reconsidering, because he nodded smugly, hands in his pockets.
“Bailey’s waiting for me back at our place. I gotta tuck her in.”
And just like that, he turned and walked out.
