Page 3 of When Hearts Awaken

Breathing in deeply, I attempt to calm myself. Emotional outbursts are useless. But right now, I wish I could let it all out, punch the wall, or break a window.

Keep calm and carry on, Charles. You aren’t like them…your parents.

It’s the one thing I’ve vowed never to become. Never to be a slave of my emotions—to let them sweep me away into madness, oblivious to the chaos I’d cause to others around me.

Even so, I wish I wasn’t alone in this, that I had someone by my side.

I run my hand through my hair, not caring I’m ruining it for the emergency board meeting later today to deal with the biggest scandal in the company’s history. The headlines swarm in my head: “Married CFO of Bank of Columbia accused of sexually assaulting a barely legal college intern at the Halton Financial Summit,” “Bank of Columbia—a breeding ground for predators?,” “The worst sex scandal in the banking industry—multiple victims have come forward.”

Dammit, Patterson. What the fuck were you thinking?A heavy sense of shame creeps inside me. I should’ve known about this. I’m the CEO and I see the bastard weekly. I should’ve seen something. Even if he was a trusted employee Grandma hired, a mentor I trained with when I worked up the ranks in the company. I shouldn’t have let down my guard and let him have free rein, assuming he was trustworthy.

But it isn’t the first time I’ve been so buried in my work I’ve missed something alarmingly obvious.

“Have you been paying attention, Charles?” Liam yells, his eyes full of hatred. “Or have you been so self-absorbed in the company—your precious fucking legacy—that you forgot everyone else?”

The bank, which Grandma’s family started and is world-renowned for its sterling reputation.Not anymore, and on your watch too.

Not to mention, this scandal following our announcement of a philanthropic initiative to raise awareness of sexual violence toward women is nothing short of ironic.

Now I have to fix this mess—if I haven’t fucked it up too much already.

“At least you have a chance to repair things,”Firefly’s imaginary voice whispers in my mind. She always knew what to say.

The lump swells in my throat and I squeeze her limp hand. I miss her so much.

“If only I can fix everything, Little Firefly,” I whisper.If only I can fix you.

“If you were here… you’d get a kick out of the official PR strategy to get us out of this mess,” I murmur.

“You got your wish. I’m going to immerse myself in the ballet world.” The company has recently sponsored the American Ballet Corporation, otherwise known as ABTC, and we’ll be donating proceeds of ticket sales to victims’ organizations. “If you were here, I’d be able to spend more time with you. Things are different now.”

I swallow. “I’d put you and Liam first in everything. I’d—”

I stop myself. Wishful thinking doesn’t do shit in the real world.

I trail my gaze over Firefly’s still figure on the bed, the place she has called home for the last six years. She looks gaunt. I miss her laughter. I miss her snarky remarks and teasing grins. She was the glue that held Liam and me together.

I miss our summers in the Hamptons.

Staring past her to the large window, I take in the darkening clouds hanging low—a heavy, oppressive weight.

I think back to another day with overcast skies and gloomy weather.

Everything was different then.

“Liam, you are so dead, you asshole! Next time, I’m putting a snake in your underwear drawer,” she shrieked, chasing after him, holding some shredded fabric in her hands, her strawberry blonde tresses billowing in the wind. The clouds were quickly sweeping in, warning us of an incoming storm, but the scene before me sparkled with life.

“Got to catch me first, pipsqueak!” His laughter traveled up to the second-story window of our sprawling Victorian summer home in the Hamptons.

“Oh my God, grow up already! I’m sixteen and you’re twenty, dude!” She shook her head. “Pipsqueak? I can take you down with my eyes closed.”

I chuckled at their crazy antics.

“Charles, you ready?” Grandma asked from behind me.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I curved my lips into a smile I’d practiced in front of the mirror a million times before—warm enough to disarm, but not so big as to look like a deranged idiot or a people-pleaser. Excitement and nervousness tremored through me. It was the moment I spent my entire life preparing for.

Her eyes glimmered with pride. “You’ll do fine. I had my first press conference at twenty-six too. I never thought I’d live to see the day when I could hand the reins of the bank to you. I was worried it’d have to go to your father…”

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