Beg For Me, My Love

he small space of "Ink & Soul," the studio I co-owned with my best friend, Liam

the numbers a glaring reminder of my failure. Olivia, my younger sister, needed surgery. An expe

n, and leaned back. It was good work. My work was always good. But good work didn

the client said, twisting t

it," I said,

, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "Ano

t pay the hos

face turning serious. "We'll

ng on a three-figure budget. My pride, the very thing that drove me to this life, felt like a lead weight in my stomach. The irony was s

cheerful sound that felt completely out

come to Ink & Soul, how can

n the bill with my finger. Five years. Five year

r Ethan Miller,

t v

but it was unmistakably hers. It shot thr

she was. S

cost more than my entire shop's rent for the year. Her hair was pulled back in a severe, elegant style, and her eyes, the same eyes I used to get lost

thing I couldn't name-surprise, maybe, or distaste-befo

ver. And she hated me. I coul

hed out, my voice

ch click echoed the pounding of my heart. She stopped right in front of my st

ping with a condescending calm. "This is

as a physical thing, claw

nding on the phoenix design I had j

ound my voi

t you to do it. After all, you're the great arti

s into a weapon against me. The power dynamic had been completely flipped. She wasn't the heartbrok

cross my workstation, right on top of Olivia's medica

wing smile touched her lips. She saw my desperation.

. But the image of Olivia, pale and worried in a hospital bed, flas

e silent room. I looked from the

voice hoarse. My surrender was

t was a victor's smile. "

r voice a low, cutting w

see you b

n the air, a dec

r everything, she wanted me to beg. Part of me, the

fied older brother, saw the n

g in defeat. I looked her in the eye, my ow

tasting like ash in my mouth. "I n

on unreadable but for the triumph

oring the word. "Don't make p

ectly manicured finger

o precious to you. It's a