The Devil Wears Laces
“Please tell me you didn’t do it,” Nikandros said as soon as Damen picked up the phone. Instinctively, Damen looked around, as though he were going to find Nikandros staring at him in disapproval from across the street. Or behind him. Or perching from one of the buildings like a gargoyle.
“I only did it because of you, you know,” Damen told him.
“You did this because of me,” Nikandros repeated. “I was the one who told you this was going to happen. Kastor has been jealous of you for years. It was only a matter of time before he made a grab for your position. That’s why he-”
“Why he told our father that I was burnt out and needed vacation time? Why he’s helpfully filling in for me during my forced sabbatical?”
“Yes.” It was exactly what Nikandros had said, though not with those specific details. Nikandros, who knew everything, had told Damen that his brother would jump at the opportunity to show their father he was capable of being CEO. Damen just hadn’t listened. But now Kastor was sitting at the Editor-In-Chief’s desk - his desk - and he’d decided to start paying attention.
“Which is why I’m not going to sit down and be useless while the company prepares for its biggest deal in years.”
“So, you’ve applied at Vere?”