Billion Dollar Promises

Chapter 5: Tangled Hearts

Savannah Lane stood in the small bathroom of her apartment, splashing cold water on her face. The mirror showed dark circles under her eyes and her hair was a mess from twisting it into a bun. Last night’s event at the Plaza had gone perfectly with flawless execution. But now, the excitement was gone, replaced by a dull ache in her chest. His warm, low voice from backstage “You did good tonight” kept replaying in her mind. Her phone sat silent on the counter, but she knew everything was a ticking time bomb.

She dried her face with a worn towel, her hands shaking, she asked herself “What am I doing?” The half-million-dollar deal was supposed to be simple: play the fiancée, save her business, and then walk away. But Jaxson’s gaze and the way his hand lingered on hers made everything complicated. She wanted to hate him, to keep him at a distance, but every shared glance felt like a crack in her walls. And her business? Marissa Kent had emailed that morning, praising her but “reserving judgment” on their contract. Her bank account was still in trouble, and the event success hadn’t stopped the online chatter calling her a gold-digger. I need this to work. But at what cost?

Her phone vibrated with a text from Elena: Are you alive? “The dinner was insane. You crushed it but I swear, you looked like you were running. Call me when you can.” Savannah sighed and tossed the phone onto the couch as she pulled on jeans and a sweater. She didn’t have time to sort out her feelings with Elena. Jaxson’s team had set up another meeting today about “next steps” for their act.

Carrington Industries didn’t feel quite as intimidating anymore. But it was still suffocating in its own way. Claire Reynold met her at the reception. Her blonde hair was pulled into its usual perfect twist, not a strand out of place. But her smile looked thinner than usual.

“Savannah. Good,” Claire said, brisk as always. “We are going to Mr. Carrington's office. He’s waiting.”

Savannah’s heart raced. His office? She followed Claire down the long hallway, but the further they walked, the louder her thoughts got.

People were talking in hushed tones. Phones buzzed every now and then. Down the hallway someone stared at her and she tried not to react but she caught words.

“...stock drop...”

“...Voss Tech…”

“...possible takeover…”

Whatever was happening, was way more bigger and suddenly, the whole fake engagement thing felt like a much smaller piece of a much more dangerous puzzle.

Jaxson’s office was quiet. The city skyline stretched out behind him, but the view didn’t ease the tension in the room.

He was standing by his desk, sleeves rolled up, shirt wrinkled at the elbows. Papers were scattered everywhere with reports, folders, things that looked like they hadn’t moved in hours. His dark hair was a little messy, like he’d been running his hands through it.

When he looked up and saw her, his face didn’t give much away. But there was something in his eyes that seemed quieter than usual.

“Savannah,” he said, motioning to the chair across from him. “Sit.”

She didn’t move. She just folded her arms across her chest, keeping her distance.

“What is this?” she asked.

Jaxson let out a quiet chuckle which made Savannah’s stomach twist, and not in a way she was ready to admit.

“Not quite,” he said. “We need to map out the next few weeks.

“The engagement story’s working,” he said. “But we have to keep it looking real. Keep people talking for the right reasons.”

Before Savannah could answer, Claire stepped forward and slid a tablet across the desk.

The screen lit up with a full schedule. It was already packed.

“Feature interview with Elite magazine next week,” Claire said. “Then a charity auction the week after. The Hamptons retreat is right after that.”

She tapped the screen as she spoke, efficient as ever.

“You’ll be seen together. Some red carpet stuff, some casual outings and maybe a few staged candid moments. We’ll walk you through how to act, what to say, how to keep the story consistent.”

Savannah stared at the screen. Her name was everywhere. So was his.

Savannah’s jaw tightened. Her arms stayed crossed, but now her voice was clipped. “Narrative? You mean lying to everyone.”

Jaxson’s eyes flicked to her. For a second, something passed across his face but it was gone almost as fast as it came.

“It’s a story, Savannah,” he said quietly. “People love stories. We’re giving them one.”

She let out a dry laugh. “Right. “ And what happens when they find out it’s fake?”

Claire didn’t even flinch. “They won’t,” she said sharply, stepping in before Jaxson could answer. “If you both stick to the plan.”

She tapped the tablet again, scrolling to another photo of her and Jaxson from the dinner, mid-laugh, like they’d been caught in a real moment.

“Last night worked,” Claire continued. “The press is calling you America’s Sweethearts. The public’s hooked. But we need consistency, and regular sightings to keep up.

Savannah thought on the word “America’s Sweethearts”. The phrase felt like a cage, but the event success had bought her time with Marissa and others. She couldn’t walk away yet. “Fine,” she said, her voice low.

Jaxson’s lips twitched, like a smile was threatening to slip out. “You always do.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she hated that he noticed.

He’s too good at this, she thought, gripping the armrest as she finally sat down.

Her eyes wandered on papers that were scattered across his desk, most marked confidential. One name jumped out: Nadia Voss.

She remembered the whispers in the hallway. The stock drops. The takeover rumors.

What’s he not telling me?

Claire’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it, muttered something about stepping out, and left the room.

The door clicked shut.

Silence settled in. Jaxson didn’t sit. He stayed leaning against the desk, arms crossed now, watching her like he was trying to figure something out.

“You were incredible last night,” he said, softer than before. Her throat tightened, just for a second.

Don’t fall for it, Savannah.

She looked up, with an unreadable expression. “Just doing my job,” she said flatly. “You’re paying me to.”

His jaw tightened, just slightly. Enough to let her know her words hit.

“Right,” he said. “Business.”

He didn’t move away. Instead, he leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice. “You don’t trust me, do you?”

Savannah didn’t look away. Her pulse kicked up, but her face stayed steady. “Should I?”

For a moment, neither of them blinked.

Something shifted in his eyes. “I’m not the bad guy here, Savannah. My company’s in trouble. I’m trying to save it.”

She wanted to snap at him. But his voice wasn’t polished this time. It didn’t sound like a pitch. It sounded real.

She exhaled slowly. “What kind of trouble?” she asked, her voice softer than she meant it to be.

Jaxson hesitated, his fingers tapping the desk like he wasn’t sure if he should say it.

“Nadia Voss,” he said finally. “My biggest competitor is pushing hard for a takeover. Quietly leaking rumors, causing our stock to drop.

He looked down for a second, then back at her. “That photo of us? Is not helping at all. But this engagement story... it’s keeping the board calm. Buying me a little time.”

Her stomach twisted. Time for what? She didn’t ask. But something about the way he said it made her pause.

“Sounds like you’ve got a lot riding on this,” she said carefully, watching him.

Jaxson gave a quiet laugh, but there was no humor in it. “More than you know.”

He ran a hand through his hair, and for the first time, his shoulders dropped. Just a little. Like the weight he was carrying had finally started to show.

“I took over five years ago,” he said. “After my dad died. One day he was at his desk, the next… gone.”

His voice dipped lower. “He built Carrington from scratch. I promised I’d protect it. Keep it strong. But now it’s slipping through my fingers, and I’m watching it happen in slow motion.”

Savannah felt something catch in her chest.

She looked down, then back at him. Her voice was barely a whisper. “That’s a lot to carry.”

He looked at her, surprised, as if he hadn’t expected her to care. “Yeah. It is.”

The moment stretched, making her heart race. She stood, needing distance. “So, the Hamptons. What’s the plan?”

He straightened, slipping back into business mode, but his eyes remained soft. “A weekend retreat. Donors, board members, some press. We’ll play our parts. You’ll help plan it to keep everything smooth.”

She nodded, her mind already working through logistics. “I can do that. But no surprises, okay? I don’t like being blindsided.”

“Deal,” he said, his tone warm again. “You’re good at this, Savannah. I’m glad you’re here.”

Her cheeks burned, and she turned away, pretending to check the tablet.

The next few days were chaotic. Savannah threw herself into planning the Hamptons retreat, managing calls with vendors and emails with Claire’s team. Jaxson was constantly around, his presence was a distraction she couldn’t shake. When he leaned over her shoulder to point at a seating chart, his breath brushed her neck, and she froze.

He caught her eye once, and asked her “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” she lied, turning back to her laptop, her fingers clumsy on the keys.

The retreat approached, as did their act. Savannah practiced smiles in her mirror, hating how natural they felt when she thought of Jaxson. It’s just a job. But at night, alone, she couldn’t shake the attraction away which seems more than just a fake engagement now.

The Hamptons weekend arrived in a flash. And Savannah was on from the moment they stepped out of the car. During photo ops, his hand brushed hers just enough to make her stomach flip. During toasts, his arm slipped around her waist like it belonged there.

The crowd loved it.

It was working. But every touch made her heart race, and each smile felt too real.

On the final night, they strolled the beach for a staged “candid” moment, cameras trailing at a distance. The ocean breeze tugged at her dress, and Jaxson’s hand steadied her, warm and sure. “You’re good at this,” he murmured.

She looked up, his face close, eyes catching the moonlight. “Don’t,” she said, her voice shaky. “This is fake, remember?”

“Is it?” His thumb brushed her wrist, and her breath caught.

She pulled away, her heart pounding. “I have goals, Jaxson. A business to save. I can’t let whatever this is get in the way.”

He nodded, jaw tight, but his eyes held her gaze. “I get it. But I’m not what you think I am.”

“Then what are you?” she asked, her voice barely audible over the waves.

He hesitated, as if wanting to say more, but a photographer called his name, breaking the moment. “We’ll talk,” he said, turning away. “Soon.”

As they walked back, Savannah’s phone buzzed in her pocket. Another anonymous text: He’s hiding more than you know. Keep your eyes open. Her blood ran cold, and she glanced at Jaxson’s back. What are you not telling me?