The Renegade Billionaire: A Small Town Romance (Happiness Ever After Book 1)

“I don’t think I can lie to them, Braxton. Everyone else, yes, I’ll do whatever it takes, but these girls know me too well, and I’m—I’m going to need them when you’re gone.”

I don’t have to pretend. These tears are real.

After Grey found the deposit from the day after Braxton was born, they put a plan into motion. First, they called Mr. Coop and told him this was something they had to do, and if it nulled them from Ace’s will, they’d deal with the repercussions.

Then everything happened in a whirlwind of activity, and all I know right now is that Braxton and I are breaking up today, he’s going back to California for a press release, and I have to sit here twiddling my thumbs and pretending I’m heartbroken.

“I know, baby,” he says. I haven’t been far from his side since we walked in the door last night, not that any of us got more than a couple of hours of sleep. “It will be hard for me too, but with me in California, the media frenzy will never make it to Happiness or your doorstep. We’re trying to keep this as far away from you as possible.”

I know they are, but it doesn’t make it any less painful.

By the looks of Grey, who’s still in his suit from yesterday, he hasn’t even been to bed.

“If you tell them,” Grey says from his perch at the island, “they have to play the part of pissed-off friends. There can be no slip-ups, Madi. Alistair will be searching for any weak links.”

“I trust them. I do, I trust them with my life. And if something happens in Happiness, I’ll need them.”

Grey peers down at his coffee, and Braxton tugs on the back of his neck. “I trust them too,” he says. “How quickly can they get here so Grey can prep them? He has more experience with the media than I do.”

Running my fingers under the elastic around my wrist, I stare at his right ear because I can’t look him in the eyes.

“They’re on their way, aren’t they?” he asks, but he doesn’t sound mad. If anything, he sounds relieved. “I’m glad you’ll have their support.”

“It’s probably not a bad idea to have Cian in on it too. At least we know he’ll protect her if anything happens.” Grey’s voice doesn’t carry the same edge to it today, and that worries me more than anything else.

“Protect her from what?” Savvy’s voice is loud and echoes off the high ceilings.

“Calm down, Rocky.” Grey smirks and I know he does it to irritate her.

In the hopes of keeping those two separated, I jump up from my chair and rush to my friends. I reach Elle first, and she hugs me so hard she squeezes the air from my lungs.

Cian enters the kitchen, muttering about knocking, and sets the infant car seat on the floor.

“What’s going on?” Clover asks. She’s even more fidgety than normal—it happens when her fears are in control.

“Braxton and I have to break up,” I blurt. The chorus of curse words and threats that erupt around me make my head spin. “Hold on,” I shout to be heard over my friends defending my honor. “Let us explain.”

I turn to Braxton, who wraps his arms around my shoulders and rests his chin on my head.

“I’m confused,” Savvy mutters. “What the hell is going on?”

I study each of their faces as Braxton and Grey take turns explaining what’s about to happen and what we’ll need from each of them. The expressions range from distrust to anger to fear, but not one of them walks away.

“For fuck’s sake,” Cian says when they’ve finished. “This is some right shite you’ve got here. You pulling Sage from school?”

“No,” Braxton says. “I spoke to Trevon this morning. There’s an extra room in the football house since their last kicker went home when he broke his leg. He’ll stay there with undercover security. We’ll also have security on Madison and Pops, but they’ll only be able to do so much.”

Savvy’s still cursing in hushed tones, but she’s listening, and that’s all I can ask.

“We’re hoping that by going back to California, the media won’t even have a reason to come here. But if Alistair brings the fight to Happiness in a petty ploy he’ll never win, we need you all on Madison’s side.” Braxton squeezes my shoulder more tightly, and I know he’s struggling to let go as much as I am.

“We’re always on her side.” Savvy flops down into one of the dining chairs and exhales loudly. “I did not have this on my bingo card today.”

“None of us did,” I assure her. “But I need you all. I’m stronger than I was, but when I think about all the possible scenarios…I’m scared.”

“Fuck.” Braxton’s body goes rigid behind me. I know my words cause him pain—we’ve already had this conversation, but I will always be truthful with him.

“I’m scared, but I’m doing this. Will you help us?”

Clover barrels forward for a hug and nearly knocks both Braxton and me over. “Always.” Her voice wavers, but she’s pushing through her own fears to help me, and I love her dearly for it.

“Okay, tell me again what you need us to do,” Savvy demands.

Grey walks them all through the plan one more time, then we pile into our vehicles and head to the Chug.

My hands tremble as I put the key in the lock. It’s taken me twice as long as it took Chief, but as soon as I have the chain off, Braxton storms past me.

It’s just pretend. It’s just pretend, I silently chant.

“That was a dick move,” Savvy says, a little too loudly.

When I turn around, I see all the concerned faces staring at me. I shrug and open the door. “Let’s get started,” I say flatly. The concern grows deeper as friends pass by. They’ve mistaken my nerves for sadness, but I’ll take it.

I wasn’t prepared for how crappy this would feel.

Pops is the last to enter, and he walks by with a reassuring squeeze to my shoulder. The door shuts behind me with a loud clap. This place has always been my sanctuary, and I pray I’m not about to jinx it with all this phony bad juju.

Braxton is at our workspace, grumbling loudly and tossing scraps of fabric around. He’s much better at pretending than I am. I actually believe he’s upset.

“Braxton,” I can’t keep the concern from my tone.

“What?” he snaps, causing more than a few heads to turn.

It’s pretend.

There’s a flash of regret hiding in his expression before he masks it with disgust.

“I told you I’d have to go back and forth. I can’t just move my company here for—for you.” His voice drips with disdain, and I struggle to remain calm.

“I said I understood.” My voice is much quieter than his, and while it feeds into the scene we’re playing, it’s also because my stomach is revolting.

“Do you though? This has all been fun and games, but I’m the CEO of a billion-dollar company, Madison. Do you know how much time and effort that takes?”

“Hey,” Cian says curtly. “What the hell’s gotten into you?”

“Stay out of this, Cian. This is between Madison and me.”

“Yeah, well you’re airing it out for the entire town to hear.”

“Fuck off,” Braxton hisses. “I have real-world problems going on. Real work and real employees that count on me. I can’t live in her little fairy-tale world forever.”

I suck in a gasp. It hurts. It hurts so much, and he won’t even look at me.

It doesn’t feel like pretend anymore.

“I didn’t ask you to give up anything for me,” I say shakily.

“Didn’t you though?” That cold glare turns on me. “Maybe not with words, but you don’t want to be in front of the media.”

“Hey, now,” Pops cuts in. “That’s going too far.”

“You won’t come to California for events. You won’t even try to fit into my world, Madison. How the fuck is this supposed to work if I’m the only one bending here?”

I’m hyperventilating. This feels too real.

“I don’t belong in California, Braxton.”

“And I don’t belong here,” he says through clenched teeth. “What is it you think will happen, Madi?”

He’s never called me Madi before, and a sob breaks free.

“What else could you possibly want from me? And tell me the truth for once, not what you think I want to hear, and not what you think everyone expects you to say. What do you want from me? I’ve given you everything you need, everything you could possibly want. I’m fixing the inn. I’m giving you more time with your beloved podcast. I’ve paid off debts and given you a financial cushion.”

“I—I never asked for any of that.” Pain and fear are two sides of the same coin. How did we veer off into something that feels too real not to be true?

“You didn’t have to ask, Madi. I had to do it.”

Oh, God. He had to do it. Do what? Fix the inn? Spend time with me? All my initial fears of his true reason for spending time with me roar to the surface.

“Then—then what happens?” Tears fall from my eyes. Real tears.

He looks at me as if he wants to hold me, like he wants to make this better, but then he lowers his head and presses into that spot on his chest. “We don’t. I’m heading back to California tonight and—and maybe we should put the brakes on before you get hurt.”

“Too late.” The words blend with a sob. His shoulders tense, but he won’t look at me.

It’s too hard to remember that this is pretend. I just want him to hug me, hold me, and tell me everything will be okay.

But he doesn’t. Of courses he doesn’t. That’s not the plan, and we have to stick to the plan.

“You’re just like the rest of your family, you know that?” His face pales at my accusation. “You’re no better than any of them, you just have more money to throw around in people’s faces, thinking it will solve all your problems. Well, news flash, Brax.” My voice breaks, and I take a step back to give myself more space from him. “I never wanted any of your money or what it could buy. I only wanted you, and look at me now.” I point to my tear-stained face. “This is what your money does. Are you proud of yourself?”

Real anguish dims his expression before he lowers his lashes and stares at the floor. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he mutters. “Goodbye, Madison.”

His footsteps echo on the floor because no one else is making a sound.

“I’m going to fecking kill you,” Cian growls.

Braxton doesn’t say a word. The next sound I hear is the door slamming shut, and my soul breaks in half.

I sit in his spot at the sewing machine, thankful now that it faces a wall, and moments later, Clover, Savvy, and Elle are at my side.

“It wasn’t real,” Clover whispers. “But you both could have won an award for that performance. I think he just broke everyone’s hearts.”

Half sob, half laugh escapes me, but we get to work on the booth without saying another word. Soon, the town will start gossiping, feeling sorry for the girl who had her heart shattered so publicly again, but for now, they give me space and time to regroup.

If I have any chance of getting through this festival and the mess that’s about to swirl around faster than a tornado, I need to have my head on right.

“We’ve got you,” Elle says, sitting on the floor with a paintbrush in hand. “We’ve always got you.”

It happens on Thursday.

Clover and I stayed home while my friends and neighbors finished the booth for the Chug and the inn. They thought it was because I was too upset to see anyone, but in reality, it was so I could stay home and watch Braxton’s press conference on TV.

And he was right. Within hours, their faces were plastered on every website. They showed up in my social media feed so often I had to unplug from them all.

By Friday morning, it was all anyone was talking about, even in our little town—maybe especially in our tiny town because now they all know who he is—and not one person has said another nice word about him since he left town.

At least not to me. While I appreciate that they have my back, it hurts to hear them talk about Braxton that way.

“Are you doing okay?” he asks. I answered his FaceTime call on my iPad, so his face was life-size—that’s how pathetic I am these days.

“I’m fine. I hate lying to everyone, but they’ll come around. Have you slept at all though?”

“I haven’t,” he admits. “Since we got the DNA results back, things have gotten messy, but as long as nothing falls back on you, we’ll be able to handle it.”

“Savvy and Elle have been strolling through town a few times a day, and they haven’t seen anyone who looks suspicious.”

“Good. That’s good. I didn’t think this would be so hard. I hate being so far away from you.”

“It hasn’t been a walk in the park for me either. I’m worried I’m too attached to you.”

His eyes glow like a cat’s at night. “You can never be too attached.”

“We’ll see what you think when you come home and I glue myself to your side.”

“I can’t wait.”

We’re quiet for a few moments, staring at each other, memorizing every eyelash and crease. It’s just not the same as having him in the house with me.

“How is Grey handling the news?”

He runs his hand through his hair. It makes it all messy and so dang sexy. It’s probably a little too long, but it makes things feel less out of control knowing I haven’t missed something even as mundane as a haircut.

“He seems fine. My mother refuses to talk about it though, so I think that’s making it harder for him. His mother was the complete opposite of his father—she was kind and gentle, at least from what I remember of her. She died when we were eight, and with his father still in jail for Violet’s death…it’s just hard not having answers.”

My heart hurts for them both. “What about you? Does it change anything for you?”

He thinks for a moment, but he’s shaking his head long before he answers. “No, Grey has always been my brother. It doesn’t change anything for us, but he did go through his father’s files.”

My stomach plummets. “That doesn’t sound good.”

Braxton tugs on the ends of his hair. “It’s not. He found proof that his father paid off Alistair to take the baby. Basically, it proves that Alistair took money to raise me as his own. The problem is that because my mother won’t talk, we have no idea how involved she was with this. We haven’t found anything implicating her, so that’s good, I guess, but if Alistair pushes us, we will use it to take him down.”

“But you’re worried because it seems as though she’s actually been trying to make some changes with the shelter she’s working at.”

He nods. “She wasn’t a good mother to me, but maybe now I might understand it a little better.”

“I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how hard that is. I miss you.” It slips out. I don’t want to be a stage-four clinger, but it’s so hard to go from seeing him every day to only talking once a day.

His shoulders relax for the first time today. “I miss you too. But it’s one in the morning there, so I’m going to let you go back to sleep. We’ll figure this all out soon, I promise.”

“I believe you.”

He smiles in that way that curls his lips on the right side. It’s something I only ever see him use for me, and my tears grow hot.

“I love you. I love you so much.” My voice catches, and I mentally berate myself. My sadness isn’t going to make things any easier for him.

“I love you too, sunshine. I’ll be home soon.”

“Okay.”

“Bye, baby.”

“Bye.” I hang up before I can ask him to forget everything and just come home so we can deal with it together. I know that won’t work. He has a company to think about, with thousands of employees. And that’s only the surface stuff I know about.

There’s so much I still don’t know.

Sleep eludes me, and I end up tossing and turning all night. I’m up before the sun and forcing Pops out of bed at seven.

“The festival doesn’t start until tomorrow, Mads. Why the hell you got me up so early?”

“I don’t know. I—I have a lot of energy and anxiety today. You know that feeling you get before something bad happens?”

He nods solemnly.

“Okay, well, I have that feeling now. So I think we should head over to the inn and just poke around. If nothing else, it will give me something to do. I can’t keep sitting here waiting for my life to happen. Braxton is out doing…stuff. I can do stuff too. He doesn’t have to deal with this on his own.”

“It is his mess to handle.” He looks at me with pity, and I hate it.

“It’s ours, Pops. I may not be wearing the ring right now, but the promise is still there. It’s our life.”

His eyes twinkle. “Well, what are ya waiting for then? Let’s go see what kind of damage they’ve done to the Hideaway.”

“I can’t win with you, Pops.” I want to laugh, but it’s stuck, almost as if my fear is holding every other emotion hostage.

“Nope. Your gram couldn’t either. I’m too hot to handle, she used to say.”

“You’re hot something, that’s for sure. Thank you, Pops, for always having my back.”

“Don’t go gettin’ all mushy on me now. I’m family, and that’s what family does. If we’ve got a battle on our hands, I can’t be blabbering on with you about my feelins.”

A chuckle is ripped from me even though it’s painful. “I got you, Pops.”

“Ditto, kid.”