**Zaire**
Savannah's knock came soft but sharp. She never rang the bell.
I opened the door to see her standing there in a sleek black trench, a red lip, and no smile.
"Still dramatic as hell," I muttered with a smirk, stepping aside.
"And you still look tired, Z," she replied, brushing past me with that signature strut, heels clicking across the marble.
I closed the door behind her.
We stood for a moment in silence.
Then she turned and faced me. "So. Want to tell me what the hell that was the other night?"
I exhaled, then moved toward the bar.
"Wine?"
"You know the answer to that."
I poured two glasses and handed her one.
"I wasn't in a good headspace," I said simply. "I snapped. You didn't deserve that."
Savannah narrowed her eyes. "You're not the apologizing type."
"Doesn
