Page 49 of Y'allywood Billionaire

Unfolding the paper, I find a letter with an old key inside. It says,

Dear Riley,

Thank you for following through with my wishes. I knew you would, my darling. And now that you’re in Scotland, I’m hoping you can figure out where this key goes. It’s rumored to open a secret library, which could lead you to the documents that will tell you the ending to my book—who took over the Scotland throne in 1421. And to the jewels of Laire’s crown!

I gasp.

Maddox chuckles. “Okay, now I like your grams, too. Smart woman. Leave something of value to the person who’d actually follow through with her last wishes.”

“I know—that’s so her.” I shake my head. Then I keep reading.

I tried my damnedest to figure this out; you know me. I didn’t want to die with my book unfinished! But my body just wouldn’t cooperate anymore. I know you thrive on adventure, my granddaughter, and it would mean everything to me, or by now, my ghost, if you’d get to the end of this harrowing tale. The Scottish people deserve to know their missing history. I’m so proud of you. More to come.

Love you forever, Grams.

“I’m with Grams,” Maddox says. “Let’s find the missing history of your people.”

“I’d love to.” I stare at the letter. “But Grams doesn’t give us a clue on where to start. And she didn’t mention the ring. I guess we’ll be waiting on that ‘More to come.’”

Maddox and I are on our way back to the castle, and I’m much more contemplative than I was on the hike in. I’m sad about my grandmother, but I’m also upset about my reaction to the cliff. I don’t want to live the rest of my life dizzy with fear. Maybe I need to see a doctor. I just want to be back to my old self.

“You’re quiet,” Maddox says. “And that’s cool, but I’m here if you want to talk.”

I nod, and thoughts and feelings rush to my mind like a tsunami. One crashing realization after the next. I always thought being an actor was my dream come true. And it has been, in so many ways. But Grams, the only one who would’ve loved to see me on-screen, never got to. And not only that, but she would’ve been the one I talked to when the paparazzi caught Maddox and me naked and told the world a complete fabrication. They shaped the way the world sees us, which is all a lie. I look at Maddox, respect for him surging through me. With a soft voice, I say, “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Deal with the paparazzi? And everyone thinking things about you that aren’t true?”

He squints, focusing on something up ahead, clearly taking his time to formulate his answer. Then he says, “Honestly, it’s the only life I’ve ever known. I don’t have any memories of when the paparazzi weren’t making shit up. Crap about my dad. Why my mom left, and what happened between them. Then they started in on me, and it almost felt like a rite of passage. I’ve never had the expectation of privacy.”

I inhale, and the scent of grass and sea soothes me. “I didn’t think about it that way. But it would explain this.” I hold out my trembling hand. “It’s like, every day, I’m terrified of doing or saying the wrong thing.” I kick a pebble. “Or accidentally falling on gravel and having my life changed because the media makes a sensational story out of it. Everything I do is under intense scrutiny. I can feel myself cracking under the pressure of it all.”

Maddox meets my gaze, a softness in his crystal eyes when he says, “I understand.”

It’s just two words, but it’s everything. Because hedoesunderstand. Of anyone, he knows what this life is like. Getting this acting job has been a dream come true. I’m so lucky; I know that. The support, even from strangers, has been so touchingand overwhelming. I just didn’t expect so much hate. “It’s like every single thing I do has consequences a thousand-fold of what I used to have. It’s terrifying.”

He squeezes my hand. “If it makes it any better, you get used to it, mostly. There’s a reason I don’t follow what people say about me in the media. Because I’ve grown up in the spotlight, I’ve learned to accept that whatever the public believes about me isn’t true. And that’s fine. They don’t need to know who I really am, and I don’t want them to. It’s a way of creating privacy, if that makes sense.”

“It does.” I look at him. “So the D-lister flings?”

“They’re the perfect distraction for the paparazzi. The press eats that crap up, and it keeps them away from the people who I really care about.”

“Huh.” What a great perspective to have, and now I understand why Maddox puts on a public persona that’s a hundred and eighty degrees from who he really is. It’s for protection.

He walks for a bit, silent, before clearing his throat and saying, “You know, vertigo can happen from stress. Sometimes my dad used to get dizzy before a show. And we were told that big adrenaline rushes can affect the inner ear, which knocks you off balance.”

I nod, growling out a frustrated breath. “You’re probably right, but I don’t want to feel like this. I don’t want to care.”

He quirks a brow. “Well, can you think of something that would be a step in the right direction? What would the old Riley do right now?”

“Old Riley would be in the water by now.”

“So what do you say?” He nods toward the ocean.

I go bug-eyed and ask, “Say about what?” even though I know exactly what he means.

He points to a ledge on the cliffs. “That plateau is a jumping spot, based on the sign that says, ‘Jumping Point.’ There’s even a stone path to get there.” He smiles. “C’mon. Let’s do it. For Grams.”

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