Mr Billionaire's Forgotten Heir

la'

cliffs in a hypnotic rhythm. I stood on the edge of the overlook, the salty breeze t

Armit

d-shouldered, his gait deliberate and steady, he looked

th toward the beach. The townsfolk might have closed ranks ar

uched near a tide pool, his camera slung aroun

, his voice carrying easily

I replied, stoppi

he sunlight caught the angles of his f

u to leave

m not going anywhe

as something else there too-cu

his arms. "Why do you car

ut the story anymore, but I was

ruth," I said finally. "And becaus

k I care what people want to know? They didn't care

under my feet. "Then tell your sid

the tide pool. "There's nothing to

o define you," I said,

ion unreadable. "You don't know

" I said, mee

tually let me in. But then he turne

me," h

-

o's

. I knew it the second sh

, determined, and far too

her words echoed in my mind. *Th

tch it crumble because of people she thought she could tru

air was cool and quiet, the walls lined with photographs I'd tak

'd kept from my old life-a picture of me and my mother, taken at the mansion when I was a k

familiar ache set

anything about me. And I

-

la'

ater that afternoon. Abby was behind the counter,

ving up, are y

iding onto a stool

a cup of coffee. "You'

ip. "But I think there's mo

a lot," she said quietly. "This town is his refuge. W

him?" I asked, l

ad. "That's not m

dding instead. "Fair enough.

sed an

trying to disappear, why not go somewhere b

Maybe he doesn't want t

-

o's

the knock at my door. I knew wh

. Dawson?" I asked, leani

linch. "I wa

lked," I said. "Y

steady. "You haven't told me

Maybe because there

like she was trying to see past t

the camera never lies. But I think that's wrong. I

hat are you t

e table behind me. "Your photos. They're n

pected, and I hated that she c

awson," I said,

said it, I kne

-

la'

Theo's cottage wi

s starting to see the cracks in his armor, the gl

ust about a s

standing the man b