Chapter 2

The SoHo penthouse was a world away from the stuffy formality of the Upper East Side townhouse. Savannah had bought it discreetly before the wedding, a just-in-case that had become her sanctuary. Boxes were still stacked in corners, but the main living area, with its vast windows overlooking the city, felt like hers. She had finalized the sale of the townhouse Ethan had never considered a home, a clean break.

As she unlocked the door, a pair of strong arms wrapped around her from behind. She gasped, then relaxed into the familiar scent of sandalwood and something uniquely him. Liam.

"Savvy," he murmured into her hair, his voice husky. "It's been forty-eight hours and five minutes. I've missed you like crazy."

He turned her around, his dark eyes searching hers, full of an intensity that still surprised her. He was attentive, passionate, everything Ethan was not. He kissed her then, a deep, possessive kiss that left her breathless and anchored. He made her feel wanted, cherished.

Her mind flashed back to that awful period after the wedding. Ethan's cutting words on their wedding night: "I have no desire." Then, his cruel dismissal of her to Tiffany: "She's a prude... like touching a block of ice." He had even explicitly told her, during one of her desperate attempts to understand his coldness, "I will never touch you, Savannah. You should understand that. Tiffany is the woman I love, the only woman I'll ever want in my bed."

The humiliation had been absolute. She had felt worthless, undesirable. For a few dark days, despair had been a heavy cloak. She' d even contemplated ending the charade of her life, the pain was so profound.

Then, in an act of quiet rebellion against Ethan' s judgment, against her own crushing self-doubt, she' d sought out that SoHo lounge. She hadn't been looking for anyone, just a place to forget. Liam Walker, the bartender, had been a surprise. He hadn't just served her drinks; he'd listened. He' d seen the pain behind her carefully constructed composure. He told her she was beautiful, that her eyes held a universe of stories. He made her laugh, a genuine laugh she hadn' t realized she was capable of anymore.

That one night of shared vulnerability, of feeling desired and alive, had led to her pregnancy. It was complicated, messy, but the child inside her was a spark of hope in the darkness Ethan had created.

Liam knew nothing of her wealth, her family, her disastrous marriage. To him, she was just Savvy, a woman he was falling for. He was devoted, sometimes a little clingy, but his affection felt genuine. He didn't want her money; he claimed he only wanted her.

Now, in her new SoHo apartment, as Liam held her close, tracing patterns on her back, her phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. She glanced at the caller ID. Ethan.

Her stomach clenched. He never called.