Page 55 of Trailer Park Billionaire (Distinguished Billionaires #3)

BEN

I don’t say a word as Robyn marches me down the hall at water-gun-point. It doesn’t matter that it’s not real. Nothing feels real anymore. Not the cold hallway, not the wet sting in my eyes, not the water soaking into my shirt.

My fucking brother?

The only thing that does feel real is the gaping hole in my chest.

I should have known this would happen. You can only lie for so long before the truth catches up, and when it does, it rips everything apart. But knowing doesn’t make it hurt less. Knowing doesn’t stop the image of her face—tear-streaked, furious, shattered—from playing on repeat behind my eyes.

My fucking brother gave her that black eye?

I should have told her.

Instead, I let her fall for someone who doesn’t even exist. I let her trust me. I let her feel safe with me. And then I became exactly what she’s been running from half her life.

Robyn jabs the water gun into my back again. I don’t move. I’m not resisting—I just feel… heavy. Like I’m carrying the wreckage of everything I ruined.

I am the wreckage.

The liar. The thief. The St. Clair.

The man who brought his family's curse straight to her door.

I’m going to murder him.

At least she wasn’t hurt. That’s something, right?

He didn’t hurt her—this time. But he saw her.

He told her about me, about us being brothers.

He knows where she is. And knowing him, he won’t just disappear.

He and my father will reel her in like they did her grandfather.

They’ll exploit her talent, threaten her, break her down until she’s nothing but a set of hands painting ghosts for their collection of lies.

The collection I’ve dedicated my life to destroying.

And I… I led them straight to her.

I was so fucking focused on keeping my secrets, I forgot the one thing that mattered—her safety.

I didn’t protect her.

I should have seen it coming. I shouldn’t have left her side.

Really, I should’ve told her everything the moment I realized who she was—who she really was to me.

But instead I tried to have it both ways.

I tried to have both: my revenge, and her love.

And now she’s paying the price by becoming my family’s slave.

“I can’t just leave like this,” I say, voice hollow.

Robyn groans behind me. “Ben, buddy. I don’t know what you did, but it looks bad. So unless you have a time machine to undo all of this, I’d suggest giving her some space. Be smart about this.”

I don’t have a time machine. All I have are regrets—piled up like bodies behind me.

But she’s right. I need to be smart about this.

I may not be able to just kill my brother, but I can still fix this.

Not for me.

But for her.

Because even if I can’t make it better, if I can’t earn her forgiveness—I can at least make her safe. From him. From the St. Clairs. From me.

Even if it means sacrificing myself. Even if it means she never looks at me again.

I’ll burn every fucking gallery down if I have to. I’ll give up the revenge, the score, the name, the plan—everything—if it means she gets out of this whole.

Because I’d rather remain the villain in her story than the reason it doesn’t have a happy ending.