Page 68 of The Renegade Billionaire

“This place is falling apart. You should have come to me, Pops. What if the other owner wants to sell?” Fear and sadness mingle with Cian’s words.

“He won’t.” I peer up at Pops.

“But how do you know? You aren’t exactly turning a profit lately.”

Pops turns his hangdog look my way—he must have perfected that expression sixty years ago.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I hold up the key in my hand. “Apparently, I’m the owner.”

“Wait, what? How? Ace.” Cian says the four words in staccato. “Ace, you said Ace.”

I nod. “He was my grandfather.”

“He came to Happiness a few times a year for about ten years now, I think. He always stayed at the inn.”

My head snaps up, and Pops looks slightly guilty.

“He did,” Pops says. “And we became friends. He wanted you to be happy, boy.”

“So, he bought stake in an inn and put the deed in my name? What the hell sense does that make?”

“This is going to devastate Madi. Jesus, Joseph, and Mary. Elle’s going cry.” The desperation in the big man’s voice wouldbe comical if the situation weren’t so dire. “Anything else I should know?”

I quickly scan the files, and guilt swamps me faster than a heatwave in July.

“Mitchell is my middle name.” I can’t make eye contact with him. “My last name is Reyes, just like Ace. And this says I’m on the hook for all the repairs. I can’t even think about selling or gifting the inn back to Madison until all the repairs are made and the inn turns a profit.” I lift my gaze to Pops. “That’s why you were buying all those supplies from Huckabees.”

“Well,Ididn’t buy them, now did I?” This guy should have been a salesman.

“You know, I came here to get away from people who were using me, Pops. This is some kind of bullshit right here,” I say, waving the papers in front of me.

“Mm-hmm.” Pops rocks back on his heels, but he’s not whistling this time. Instead, he stares at the floor of the shed. It’s how Sage would stand when he was younger and knew he was in trouble.

Somehow this betrayal doesn’t feel as hurtful as the shit my parents have pulled, but I have no idea why.

“Ace asked me not to. He wanted you to fall in love in Happiness before we tied you to it.”

“You should have told me, Pops,” I say gently, choosing to ignore how he said ‘fall in loveinHappiness,’ not fall in lovewithHappiness. “And you absolutely should have told Madison. She has a right to know.”

He nods, and his neck bobs as though he’s having difficulty swallowing.

Pinching the back of my neck, I run through different scenarios, but the only solution I can come up with is to tell Madison the truth.

“What are you going to do? Help them.” Cian doesn’t end his sentence in a question. He tells me, but I’d already planned to.

“I—helping isn’t the problem.” I grip the key tightly in my palm.

“Like you helped Jessa over at the high school?” Cian smirks.

“Or the tip you left at the diner after you heard Betty’s grandson needed physical therapy?” The humor in Pops’ tone is frustrating.

“I didn’t…”

Cian chortles, which is a funny sound coming from someone his size. “Come on, Brax. You blow into town and suddenly good deeds are popping up wherever you go? It wasn’t hard to figure out.”

Dammit.

“No one knows it’s you, boy. They just got their suspicions is all.” At least Pops has the sparkle back in his eyes.