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His head spun as he began to see the past through fresh eyes.

One thing was for sure—it would be much easier to convince his mom to leave Ian now than it would’ve been a year ago. “I think Mom’s been waiting for this chance for a long time.”

16

Emery

“The donations are finalized,” Hague announced without a hello. The call from Hague as I closed the shop for the day was a welcome distraction.

I worried about Jack and Rebecca. News traveled fast in Hartwell, so no doubt I’d hear something soon, but the not knowing was infuriating. And I hated that I still cared so much about what happened to Jack Devlin.

This news from Hague lifted my spirits as I walked along the boards toward home. “That’s wonderful.”

“And it was all anonymous, just as you wanted.”

“Excellent.”

“As for what’s left, I have some papers for you to look over and sign. I want to make sure you’re happy with the stock options I’ve selected on your behalf. The money you’re not investing has, as discussed, been split between several high-interest savings accounts, and we’ll move those around depending on changing interest rates. Of course, we’ll keep you apprised of any moves. And you still have all your grandmother’s real estate investments in place. On that note, the estate is officially for sale.”

“Thank you, Hague. I mean it. Really. I couldn’t have done this without you.” I let myself into the beach house, feeling at least one weight lift off my shoulders.

For years, I’d held on to my family’s estate and continued as the major shareholder in the Paxton Group. However, I disliked that house, and I loathed that company. I hated what it had taken from me before I was even born. And while I didn’t claim to be a climate change crusader, I wasn’t comfortable being so directly complicit in air pollution.

The only reason I’d hung on to the estate and the company was because I’d promised my grandmother I would. But the weight of both had plagued me for years. It wasn’t until I heard Jessica’s and Dahlia’s stories that I had an epiphany.

A few months ago, before Dahlia was shot trying to protect Ivy, she’d been reluctant to let Michael back into her life because of the guilt she carried over her sister’s death. While Dillon’s death hadn’t been her fault, Michael was once in a relationship with Dillon, and that’s really where Dahlia’s guilt stemmed from.

To help her, Jessica had revealed her own past to us. Discovering what trauma Jess had been through, and how she’d thrown off the shackles of the past, had been enlightening. Jess was strong—she hadn’t allowed her past to define her.

As much as my grandmother had been the only family to care for me, she’d also done her damage, to me and to others through me. The Paxton Group wasn’t the legacy I wanted for myself. And I realized that I didn’t owe my grandmother my future.

So, I had Hague begin the process of selling my shares. Most of the buyers were among current shareholders looking to increase their stake in the company. That I sold my holdings at cost made them go fast.

They were worth the kind of money most people could only imagine in their dreams.

I divided the bulk of it among my favorite charities. Mostly animal, children’s, and women’s charities. However, I also donated a phenomenal amount to a clean-air initiative. Talk about alleviating some guilt.

Hague insisted I keep enough for myself as a substantial security blanket, and I saw the wisdom in that.

But I was no longer a billionaire.

And it was wonderful.

People would probably think I was crazy. However, there was a difference between being a millionaire a

nd being a billionaire. As a billionaire, I had to hide. Hartwell started out as somewhere to hide. Yes, now it was my home, but people knew me under a false name and identity. As a billionaire, it was hard to know who you could trust. It was hard to know if someone loved you or was just using you to get to your money, to siphon the power that comes from having so much.

It was exhausting.

It was lonely.

And I knew it was the major reason I didn’t actively pursue a romantic relationship.

“Do you need me to come to the city to sign those?” I asked, picking up my mail from the floor as I wandered through the open space to my kitchen.

“No, I’ll have them couriered over. If you have any questions, call me and we’ll go over them.”

“Great. Thank you, Hague.”


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