Page 107 of Sweet Wicked Vows

After spending weeks unable to move from beneath my duvet and eat anything that wasn’t ice cream, Jaxon attempted to keep my mind from being overwhelmed with sorrow. He started to find places that could possibly be the future home of my publishing agency. He booked a couple places to view, whatever it took to get me out of the house.

He was genuinely excited when he came across the place in Soho.

Honestly, I knew he was doing it for my benefit as much as his. The weeks after the funeral, his phone rang non-stop. Frederic called day and night, and whatever was going on, Jaxon refused to answer a single one of his calls.

I tried to ask, but he promised me that it wasn’t important.

“I miss Dad.”

Grief sunk its blunt claws into my chest. “I miss him, too.”

“What’s going to happen in August?” Flynn asked. “Once you step down, am I expected to just jump straight into the role?”

I nodded. “Pretty much.”

“What if I need help? What if I don’t know what I am doing? Dad isn’t here to keep me right, and you’ll be too busy running your own company.”

“You’ll have Kerry there,” I said. “She can be difficult to deal with at the start, but she’ll come round to you being in charge and be your second in command like she was to Dad.”

“What if it’s not what I want? What if it wasn’t what I ever wanted?”

I opened my mouth and then closed it.

“You get it, don’t you? You’ve been doing it for a year, and I can see how much you hate it.”

“It was never my job to have,” I said. “Dad knew that. I only stepped into this because he got sick, and you were still in university. It was never my dream.”

“I never wanted the job either, and I told Dad time and time again that it’s not right for me, but he refused to listen.”

“Maybe you’ll feel different when you start?”

Flynn shook his head dramatically. “Let’s cut the crap, Evie. You and I both know I cannot run a company. Fuck, I am barely able to keep my own life from falling apart, never mind a multi-billion-dollar company.”

“I thought that about myself, too. Yet, I managed to keep it going.”

“Because of Jaxon,” he said. “I love you and all, but we both know that if it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t have gotten this far.”

Harsh but true.

“We both know what I am,” my brother continued. “I’ve been denying it for some time now, but I know how everyone sees me. Alcoholic. Druggie. Waste of space.”

“Flynn, that’s not…”

He interrupted me. “It’s true. I know I have problems. Problems I want to fix, I really do.”

During his time living with us, I didn’t witness him drink as much as a drop of alcohol. I thought he was doing better. Away from his university friends who were poor influences and away from the party lifestyle. The empty bottles Jaxon found stashed in the flowerbeds of the back garden told a different story.

“Please, don’t give me the job. Don’t make me do this.” Flynn gripped the ledge of the bookshelf. “I’m begging you. I can’t be the reason Dad’s legacy fails. I am not strong enough to handle that if it happens. It’ll kill me.”

As tears welled in his eyes, I ran across the room and wrapped my arms tightly around him.

“Please help me,” he sobbed. “You’ve done so much for me already, but please, Evie, I need you.”

“It’s going to be okay, Flynn,” I soothed. “I’ll look after you, Ipromise.”

I signed a five-year lease for the building in Soho.

My own publishing house.

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