The Billionaire's Unwanted Heir

dollars Meg had hidden away, enough for cheap tickets and even cheaper food. My ha

ept sitting up, Meg's head o

was green, humid, and a world away from the sterile luxury of Ryan's Los Angeles mansion. Music s

ves at a community outreach center, a low,

smile introduced herself as Martha

the parts of it we were will

and a fresh start, girls," she

he found a doctor who looked at my hand, which was healing poorly, and my scarred face. He refe

when Meg shyly mentioned her old love for dance and her new, hesitant intere

hours at the center's old computer, a pair of donated headphone

ed to the community center. I bussed tables and wiped counters, the repetitive work o

rlett" sometimes, a gentle teasing about my face that, surprisingly, did

lders began to ease. The const

rned hand was still stiff, the skin tight, but I started playing, simple chords at first.

me playing a soft, melan

. "You have a gift. Don't let anyon

ound the edges, but their passion was infectious. They invite

Singing in front of peop

ing with therapy, her eyes bright as she

d, battered, b

. Antoine was where w