Page 223 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Solene

Keeping my body flat against the wall, I peer sideways and out the window of my room.

From my vantage point, I can make out the small crowd of paps gathered outside the gates of the house.

Initially, there were only a couple of them—and I recognized them as journalists from the massive zoom lens cameras hung around their necks.

As I wondered about their presence, my phone rang.

It was Rick, telling me to stay away from the window.

He asked me if I'd checked the video I’d uploaded earlier.

I told him yes, and asked him how he knew about that, but instead of answering, he directed me to take another look at it.

Then, he warned me again to stay hidden.

Before I could ask him any further questions, he disconnected.

I rush to pull up my phone and check the video I uploaded.

It's a song I recorded shortly after talking to Abby. I was unable to sleep and decided to put my newfound insights to use. Honestly, I didn’t think anything would come of it…

but holy hell. If I'm reading the video views right, and I am, the song already has a million views. A million in a matter of hours. No, I’m not kidding.

It's my first video on a handle I set up after Abby showed me how. That was a few hours ago.

I uploaded the video and fell asleep. Then woke up to my phone buzzing.

Abby screeched down the line and asked me to check the response to my video.

At first, I didn’t comprehend what I was seeing.

I saw the number of views, and I had to ask her a few times if the number was what I thought it was.

Abby was so excited, she could barely speak.

She tried to tell me how difficult it is to get ten thousand views, let alone a million, and in such a short period of time.

I explained that it was only me, singing my heart out, acapella. Just me, my voice and my words.

She insisted it's the lyrics that elicited that kind of response. The lyrics I scrawled in the one notebook my mother didn’t find.

The lyrics I've polished over the last two weeks and set to the tune Harry wants me to change.

I just sang the song as I heard it and saw it in my mind's eye, and apparently, people love it.

Now, I alternate my attention between the video views on my social media handle and the growing number of people joining the circus outside the gates of Declan’s house.

At some point, the number of people swells to what looks like a fifty-strong crowd.

Some have parked their cameras on stands trained at the house.

The number of views on my video keeps growing.

When it hits two million—holy shit, two million—three vans, each with the sign of a popular news station’s logo on the side, drive up in quick succession and join the fray

Then, one of the paps must notice my movement at the window—this, despite my taking extreme care not to be seen.

He trains his camera squarely at me, and the rest follow suit.

The hair on my forearms rises. A sensation of my stomach bottoming out assails me.

I push away from the window, walk to the bed, and sink down onto it.

I’m not sure exactly what’s happening. No, that’s a lie.

I have a very good idea what’s happening; I just can't believe it. They love my song. No, they adore it. They can’t get enough of it.

I peek down at my phone and revel in the comments on the video:

@sonic: Gorgeous Voice

@tunelover: Holy shit, this is the best thing I’ve heard since forever

@cynic: Okay, you’ve won me over

@mysticboom: OMGOMGOMGOMG

@delflower: those lyrics, that voice, how do you do it?

@lokithedog: what color lipstick are you wearing?

Abby told me to reply to as many comments as I could.

I keep my fingers poised over the screen but…

What do I say? The phone buzzes; it’s Harry.

He’s tried to reach me at least twenty times so far, and I’ve ignored every call.

I mean, what am I going to say to him? He’ll probably be pissed off that I released the song online.

Also, I didn’t follow his instructions when it came to modifying the tune.

So… Yeah. No, I definitely don’t want to talk to him.

I let the call go to voicemail, then drop the phone by my side.

What am I going to do? What can I do? If only Declan were here, I could ask him. If only—

"Solene, are you okay?"

I glance up, and it’s as if I’ve conjured him out of thin air. A fierce happiness blasts through me. My feet barely touch the floor as I race over to him. I leap into his arms and throw mine about his neck. "You’re here!" Then I burst into tears.

"Shh, baby, it’s okay." His one arm is under my butt supporting me. With the other, he rubs soothing circles over my back. "Let it out, darling, let it all out." I’m dimly aware of someone else—Rick—stepping back and closing the door.

Then, Declan walks over to the sofa on the other side of the room and sits down with me in his lap. Damn, damn, damn, I need to stop blubbering all over him. At least, he’s not wearing one of his fancy-ass suits, which would make this worse.

And I’m not going to apologize for falling apart like this. Or for soaking his sweatshirt. I’m allowed to have a good cry, given the emotional rollercoaster of the last month, aren’t I?

He draws his palm down my hair and his touch is so gentle, so unlike how he was with me before he left that I cry harder.

All the pent-up worry and frustration and anger I’ve stored seems to bubble up and pour down my cheeks.

I’m aware of him rocking me, and somehow, the way he’s offering me comfort and caring for me only makes it all worse.

He left me without even a note. He simply disappeared without a word.

And now, he comes back, and I fall apart in his arms. How pathetic am I?

I try to pull away, but he tightens his grip about me.

His arms are steel bands around me. The familiar scent of dark chocolate and coffee envelopes me.

His chest is broad enough for me to bury my face in it and cry my heart out.

When my sobs finally subside, he presses his lips to the top of my head. "Feel better now?"

I nod, then promptly hiccup. Oh, god, someone kill me.

He leans over, grabs the glass of water on the end table, and passes it to me. I gulp down half of it, then place it aside.

"It’s a little overwhelming, huh?"

I clamber off his lap, and he loosens his grip enough for me to sit next to him.

He keeps his arm about my shoulders and tucks me into his side.

I pull up my legs and allow myself to draw comfort from his big body.

"You saw the video?" My voice cracks, and I swallow down the bubble of emotion that seems to have lodged itself there.

"You’re brilliant in it, as I knew you would be. And now, the world knows."

I peek up at him from under my eyelashes. "You think it’s good?"

"Good? It’s the fucking bee’s knees!” He growls.

I bite the inside of my cheek.

"I’m not the only one who thinks so, by the way. So do the three million people who’ve viewed it."

"Three million?" I shake my head. "The last I checked—"

"Here." He pulls his phone from his pocket, swipes the screen, then hands it over.

I glance down at it, then gulp. "Wow, that’s another one million in half an hour?"

"It’s growing in popularity. Seems you’re unstoppable."

I hand the phone back to him and tuck my face into his armpit. "I have no idea what this means."

"It means, you’ve been discovered. You’re going to be an overnight star."

Something in his voice makes me glance up at him. His features are soft, those blue eyes of his blazing with some kind of inner turmoil I can’t interpret.

"What’s wrong?" I ask.

He shakes his head.

"Tell me." I dig my elbow in his side. "Please?"

He pulls his arm from around me, and the cool air makes me shiver. A chill runs up my spine, and I wrap my arms about my waist. "Declan?" I murmur, "I’m so happy you’re here with me."

He shoots me a sideways glance. "I’m glad I’m here with you, too."

I reach up and drag my finger down the crease between his eyebrows. "So, why are you frowning?"

"I’m not."

"You are."

He holds my gaze for a second, then rises to his feet and begins to pace. "I’m pleased for you, I really am—"

"But?"

"But I wish I could have had you to myself a little while longer. I knew it was only a matter of time before you’d be discovered.

Hell, that’s why I put you in touch with Harry, but I hoped I’d get a few months to have you to myself before the world, in all its craziness, asked to have a piece of you. "

A buzzing sound fills the air. We turn toward the window where I hadn’t drawn the drapes to find a device hovering there.

"What’s that?" I gape.

"A fucking drone. It has a remote camera."

He stalks over to the window and pulls the drapes shut, then walks over to the next window and repeats the action, and the next, until we’re closeted in the room with the sunshine now blocked by the curtains.

"Jesus." I lock my trembling fingers together.

"And it’s only just beginning, babe."

"I… I’m not sure I can cope with it."

"You can, baby. You’re tougher than you give yourself credit for."

"I… I’m not sure."

"I am." He walks over and squats in front of me. "Look at me, Solene."

I glance up, and his gorgeous blue eyes lock with mine. "I’m here for you. I’ll help you navigate through the madness. I’ll protect you from the worst of it so you can focus on your craft. At the same time, I’ll ensure you enjoy your rise to fame."

My heart begins to race. My pulse kicks up so I can hear the blood drum in my ears. "Why?" I swallow. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I’m falling for you."