Chapter 6

Jason

My phone buzzed again, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I picked the phone, staring the screen as my father's name flashed across it. Six missed calls. Seven. I smacked the phone face-down on my desk without answering.

Father could wait. The company's executives could wait. The meeting could wait for all I cared.

I sat in my office on the ninth floor, looking down on the city beneath me. The morning sun swept in through glass windows, casting shadows across my mahogany desk. The polished surface glinted in the sunlight.

My secretary's voice came through the intercom. "Mr. Blackwood, your father—"

I pressed the button, cutting her off. "Tell him I'm busy"

Her tone was laced with anxiousness. "Sir, he's been calling all morning. He seems–"

"I said I'm busy." My tone held a sharp edge.

The line went silent for a heartbeat. "Y

Understood, sir."

I leaned back in my chair, running my hand over my face. The stubble was rough. I couldn't remember the last time I shaved. The days blurred together now, one bleeding into the next like wet ink on paper.

My computer screen lit up with unread emails. What? Twenty? Damn!

I closed the laptop at once, not checking a single one.

A vibration rippled through the table. My phone…Again. I picked it up and shut it down, before shoving it into my drawer. I needed a goddamn break. Couldn't they get that?

The silence felt good for a moment, until it didn't. A heavy weight pressed over my chest, making it difficult to breathe.

I stood up, pacing to the window. The city bustled with life…people moving, working, going about their business as though all was well with them.How did they do that? How did they just keep going?

My office door burst open without a knock. I spun on my heels.

"Dad." I said, as hurried breath rushed out.

My father, Daniel Blackwood, stood there, his tall frame blocking the doorway, his features contorted in anger. His hair was a mix of grey and black. His suit was tailored to perfection, his tie pinned with a diamond. Everything about him reeked of power.

"What the hell were you doing?" he demanded, stepping in and slamming the door behind him.

"Busy?" He scoffed. "We both know that's a lie."

A silent battle with our eyes followed.

"I asked a question, Jason."

"I was tired, Dad. I needed–"

"You needed what?" His voice rose, sharp. "Do you know how many people were in that boardroom waiting for you? Do you understand what it looks like when the heir to Blackwood Empire doesn't show up to a meeting about a major charity event coming up in weeks?"

I turned to face him then. His jaw was clenched so tight I thought it might break.

"It shows incompetence," he continued, his voice dropping lower. "It looks like you can't handle the responsibility. Like you're not fit to run this company."

"Maybe I'm not," I said with a low voice.

His eyes flashed. "Don't be stupid. You are the only Blackwood left to take over. I've spent twenty eight years, Jason. Twenty eight years building this empire. And you're going to throw it away because of what? A woman?"

The words hung between us, the air going thick with tension.

"She's not just a woman," I said, my voice tight. "She was my wife."

"Was," he stressed, approaching me. "She's past tense. She's gone, Jason. This is the last time you'd mention anything about her. There are more important things you must focus onto focus on. This company. Your legacy. Your future."

"My future," I repeated, almost choking on the words.

"Yes. You are supposed to be the heir to this empire. Do you think other shareholders are so loyal they'll resist the chance to seize your position? One sign of weakness and they'll strike. They're waiting, Jason. Waiting for you to fail."

I hated the fact that he was right.

My father stepped closer, his expensive cologne filling my nose.

"Get your shit together," he said, his icy voice cutting through me. "I don't care what you're feeling. I don't care if you're sad or angry or whatever this is. You pull yourself together, you show up to work, and you act like a man who deserves to run Blackwood Empire. Am I clear?"

I cleared my throat, before nodding. What else could I do? Not like I could ever go against the man.

He stared at me for a long while, then turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him.

The silence crashed down again, heavier this time.

I stood there for what felt like hours, moping. Then I walked to the small fridge at a corner. A bottle of whiskey faced me and I pulled it out.

I poured a glass and gulped it down in one swallow, eyes reddening as the burning liquid passed my throat.

My eyes darted around the room, landing on something I hadn't noticed before.

On the corner of my desk, half-hidden under a stack of documents, was a small silver pendant. My chest tightened as I picked it up.

It was Isabelle's. The one I had gifted her on our first anniversary as I promised my undying love…now the pendant weighed a thousand pounds.

I looked around my office, really looked, and I saw her everywhere.

On the shelf above my desk stood photo of us at our wedding. A bright smile lit her face as she held my chest, her head tilted back. I had stared at her like she was my world. God help me, 'cause she was. And I never realized that until I chased her. Until she was gone.

I sat down hard in my chair.

What had I done?

I poured another glass, downing it at once. Then another. The bottle emptied slowly, my thoughts growing blurry.

My hands shook as I set the glass down.

The office door opened again. I didn't look up. I assumed it was my father–probably coming for part two.

"Sir?" It was my secretary's voice, cautious, careful. "Are you... are you alright?"

Did I look alright?

"Sir, should I call someone? Should I—"

"No," I said, my voice hoarse. Just... lock the door on your way out."

She hesitated, then I heard her footsteps retreating. The door clicked shut.

Just a moment later, the door was pushed open again. Who the hell was it?

My head snapped up, eyes red, ready to stare the person to death.

"Lila, what are your doing here?"