phone chimes from the living room, and I release a heavy sigh.
It’ll be some notification of another news story about me.
Hunter used to tell me that all publicity was good publicity. Now, I just find it all exhausting. It makes me wonder what else Hunter did to keep me on top. What other crimes were committed in my name?
My phone lights up again, and I turn away in disgust.
I once compared being famous to being locked up in a high tower, with no doors or stairs leading up to the top. I can see life as it’s lived for everyone else—for people like Ivy and her friends, Giselle and Georgina. They can lead normal lives. They can go through their happiness and sadness in private, finding joy in whatever pockets of life they choose to look.
I don’t even know how I got up here. The tower is luxurious, don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful for all the money that I’ve earned, and all the boxes of gifts that I’m sent every single day. I’m grateful for the fast track at the airport, and the private cars and jets that take me wherever I need to go.
I’m not wanting for anything…
…except genuine connection.
The only people I can truly trust are Ivy and my hair stylist Melissa. Ivy was the only one who was strong enough to walk away from me when I was being self-destructive. Melissa is the only person, other than Ivy, who was fully supportive of my three-month retreat.
Ivy ended up poisoned because of her connection to me.
Because of me.
Another ding sounds from my phone, and I march over to it with a huff. Without looking at the screen, I turn it on silent and put it on a high shelf.
I can’t look at it right now.
Ever since I’ve gotten back to Farcliff, the media have all wanted a piece of me. I’m supposed to do an exclusive exposé with one of the main media outlets in Farcliff next week. The ‘tell-all’ interview that will have people salivating at the thought of my shortcomings.
My publicist has been contacting me non-stop. My most lucrative brand sponsorship—with a haircare company, on account of my trademark blonde locks—is on the rocks. I touch my head, itching at the base of my hair extensions.
All I want to do is rip them out. I’d get rid of my blonde hair in an instant, but that would mean risking my image and my career.
I have to do the tell-all interview, prove myself worthy of being sponsored, and then life can go on as normal.
Except for this little problem growing in my uterus. I won’t exactly be the model spokeswoman for mental health, recovery, and redemption when I have Prince Beckett’s baby growing inside me.
No—calling my child a problem is wrong. My baby is a gift. This baby gives me more strength than I can say, and provides me with a ladder that I can use to climb down from the tower where I’ve held myself captive.
With a child, I’ll be a mother. Nothing else. Not a famous actress, not a former model, not a celebrity or a socialite.
I’ll be a mom.
What’s more beautiful than that?
I slink out the front door and let my feet take me to the edge of my property. I peer through the fence at the world beyond, wondering what it would be like to be normal.
What if I didn’t have the weight of the world’s expectations on my shoulders?
What if I hadn’t been made to provide for my entire family when I was just a kid?
What if I’d had a normal childhood?
I glance behind me at the big, luxurious house, and I sigh.
I wouldn’t have all that. There wouldn’t be two princes living with me, and Ivy would never have met the love of her life.
As trapped as I feel, I have to stay grateful.
Ivy got off the hamster wheel. She’s chasing her dream with the bakery. She isn’t attached to me anymore, and she’s living her life the way she wants to.
Maybe I can do the same.
My hand slides over my abdomen, and a smile drifts over my lips.
This baby will change everything.
4
Dante
Luca emerges from a bedroom across the hall at the same time as I walk out of mine.
I nod to him. “I need to talk to you.”
“News from Argyle?”
“More like lack of news.”
Luca grunts, gesturing down the stairs. He leads me to a small study at the back of the mansion. There are messy stacks of papers on