“Mr. Jackson.” My assistant, a curvy, long-legged blonde named Abigail, pushed my office door open. “There’s a call for you on line one.”

“I told you I’m busy.” I looked up from my desk and grumbled under my breath.

“It’s—important sir. It’s your sister-in-law, Katie.” She swallowed hard and I saw tears forming in the corner of her eyes.

Oh fuck—she’s never called me before. Fuck.

“Hello? Katie?” I grabbed my phone and pressed it to my ear.

I wasn’t prepared for what Katie was about to tell me. The phone nearly dropped out of my hand when I heard her words and managed to process them—my brother, Wyatt, was dead. He had taken his own life. I didn’t know how to respond. A numbness swept over me and the words got trapped in my esophagus. I finally managed to thank her for calling me and let her know I would tell the rest of my family. After I put the phone down, Katie ran into my office and hugged me. I didn’t really care for her touch, but I was so overcome by grief that I didn’t care. I wouldn’t be the only one shedding tears. Wyatt was well-loved by everyone at our family’s company. Most of them hoped he would be the one sitting in my chair—but he wanted to get married and have a family. I never thought he would be the kind of man who would take his own life. I couldn’t even process what could have led him to that point.

“I—I need to call Reynard.” I swallowed hard and squeezed my eyes closed to fight the tears.

It was the middle of the workday, which meant Reynard was likely at a strip club or balls deep in a whore. I hoped it was the former because he wouldn’t answer his phone if it was the latter. He answered the phone after the first ring and I managed to choke out the words before he told me that he was on the way. The next call needed to be to our mother, and I wasn’t sure I had the strength to tell her that her oldest son was dead. Word spread quickly through the office, and by the time Reynard walked through the door, I had received condolences from several of my employees.

“There’s no way he fucking killed himself!” Reynard pushed his way through the door wearing anger on his face instead of grief. “He wouldn’t do that! He loved life!”

“Reynard, you’re just upset.” I held up my hands. “Have a drink—otherwise I’m going to drink the whole bottle before I work up the courage to call Mom.”

“Open another bottle.” Reynard snatched the bottle off my desk. “I’ll call Mom.”

“You don’t think we should make that call together?” I tilted my head to the side.

“And what? Put her on fucking speaker phone so we can tell her Wyatt killed himself?” He waved me off and walked towards the door. “I’ll call her.”

It was probably for the best, although I didn’t like the idea of Reynard telling her that he didn’t believe Wyatt took his own life. It was going to be hard enough for her to process what happened without him filling her head with a theory when he had none of the facts. I poured another drink and bought three tickets to Chicago. I wanted to leave on the next flight. I called Abigail into my office and laid out instructions for the time that we would be gone. Normally, that responsibility would fall to my brother if I was away, and it was going to be the first time I asked one of our Vice Presidents to step up—I hoped they were able to handle the responsibility.

“I’ll take care of everything.” Abigail wiped a tear away from her eye and stood. “Call me if you need anything.”

“We’ll pick up on Mom on the way to the airport.” Reynard stormed back into my office with the bottle in his hand missing half of the liquor it had when he left.

All we could do was arrange for a car and do what had to be done. I was in tears. My mother was bawling. Reynard—well he just had an icy stare on his face—like he was blaming the world for what Wyatt did. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to reason with him. I gave that up long ago. I could either go along with his delusion or find myself grouped in with the people that he laid blame on. That was how he coped with people. He carried a lot of darkness around inside of him as it was, and if he was forced to feel true emotions, he normally handled them by lashing out at those around him.

“I’ve got something.” Reynard pushed open my door and barged into my office—while I was in the middle of a meeting with one of our clients.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hawthorne. Reynard, I’m in an important meeting right now.” I looked up at my brother, but the determination on his face suggested that he wasn’t leaving.

“I need to talk to you.” He held up a stack of papers.

“It’s okay.” Mr. Hawthorne smiled. “I think we’re done—obviously this is important. I’ll assume it’s about making me more money.”

“Of course—that’s what we do here.” I put a smile on my face and shook his hand before he left.

“I told you he didn’t just kill himself.” Reynard slammed my door as soon as Mr. Hawthorne was on the other side of it. “Take a look at this shit.”

“What is it?” I looked down at the stack of papers as he threw them on my desk.

“He was being blackmailed—blackmailed by some little slut on the Internet.” Reynard pulled a chair close and sat down. “Look at these chat logs. I matched the dates—right after he agreed to her price, he transferred fifty-thousand dollars to a bank account in Wisconsin.”

“I mean—that’s horrible.” I scanned the chat logs, blinking in surprise at the exchange. “But fifty thousand dollars would have been nothing to him…”

“I bet she came back for more.” He grabbed a page and turned it around so that I could see it. “Right here, she threatened to tell Katie everything if he didn’t wire her the money.”

“But—he paid her.” I tilted my head to the side. “Right?”

“Yes—but she had her teeth in him by that point. She was going to bleed him dry!” He grabbed one of the pieces of paper and squeezed it in his fist. “This fucking bitch is going to pay. I’m going to find her.”

“Are you sure she was asking for more money?” I started reading through the logs.

“She blackmailed him for fifty thousand dollars! Do you think she would have quit once she had him against the fucking ropes? There are a lot of video chats—see right there.” He pointed at a spot where the typing seemed to stop and was followed by a note stating they were live chatting. “I bet she recorded him.”

“Okay, let’s say you’re right.” I put down the papers. “There’s not much we can do. We can call the cops and tell them she blackmailed him, and they might arrest her—but then what? It’ll end up in the papers—it’ll tarnish the company name.”

“We made a vow.” Reynard’s jaw tightened.

Fuck. I was just trying to make him think I was on his side. I never expected it to come to something like this.

“I’ll honor it.” I sighed. “We’ll find a way to make sure she pays for what she’s done without jeopardizing the company.”

Hopefully, Reynard never finds her. I’m scared of what he might actually do if he does…

Reynard took Wyatt’s laptop after his funeral, and once I saw what he found, I was glad that he did. Wyatt didn’t leave a suicide note and while that left his wife with no answers about why he was gone, it was probably better that she didn’t know the truth. As far as she knew, she buried a husband that was faithful to her—loved her with all of his heart—cared for his children. She didn’t need to know what made him snap—what made him close his garage door, drink a whole bottle of liquor, and start his car so that the fumes could end his life.

“I found her.” Reynard walked into my office and slammed a piece of paper down in front of me. “Her name is Elizabeth Abernathy—she goes by Lizzy. Oh, and get this shit—she’s right here in New York.”

“I thought the money went to Wisconsin?” I looked up at Reynard.

“She has a private LLC in Wisconsin and a bank account registered there under the company name. Once the money is deposited, she wires it to an account in the Caribbean to cover her tracks before she transfers it to her real account.” He nodded. “She’s a smart little bitch, I’ll give her that.”

“Wow.” I looked down at the paper. “She’s only eighteen?”

“Yeah.” He nodded and took a seat. “She’s been on her own for about a year now—pulling this shit on people. Wyatt wasn’t the first or the last, and she’s still doing it—think about all the people she’s fucking over right now.”

“How did you find all of this out?” I sighed as I realized that Reynard was definitely going to do something about it—and he was going to want me to uphold my vow.

“I spent a lot of money—luckily, we’ve got plenty.” He nodded quickly. “Now let’s talk about what we’re going to do when we get our hands on this little slut.”

I didn’t want to have that conversation with Reynard, but I had no choice. I made a vow—and I would have to honor it. We never broke a vow to each other, even if it was one I made in the heat of the moment, never expecting it to come to something like what was in front of me. Reynard wanted to take her—put her in a cage—punish her. I knew my brother was twisted and his sexual fantasies were quite—diverse—but what he was talking about was cruel, even for him. I started to worry that he was seeking revenge and using it as an opportunity to satisfy one of his own sexual urges in the process.

“Okay, make the arrangements.” I nodded and reached for a bottle of liquor.

Maybe that will buy me some time to change his mind or come up with an alternative. God help us both if I can’t.