Royal Heir (Westerly Billionaire #3)(3)

The boy had visibly swallowed and raised his chin. He was only about ten years old, but he was braver than many of the men Magnus knew. “Water Bear Man.”

“Who?”

“You don’t know Water Bear Man? WBM? He’s only the greatest superhero in the world. Nothing can kill him. Nothing scares him. When I grow up, I’m going to be just like him.” The boy’s face tightened. “If I grow up. I need a new heart. We need to find a donor, and then the doctors say even if I do, I may neglect it.”

A woman walked over and took the boy’s hand in hers. “Reject it,” she corrected softly. “And don’t say that, Finn. Stay positive. We’ll find a donor. All we have to do is believe, and it will happen.”

“Mom, stop. I don’t need you to lie to me.” For a moment Magnus had found it difficult to breathe as Finn searched his face. “You always say what you think even if it makes people angry with you. Do you think we’ll find a donor?”

Magnus looked from the pleading eyes of his mother to the solemn eyes of her son. “I don’t know, but I’ll do what I can to see that it happens.”

“I don’t believe you,” Finn said.

The doctor at the door had gasped. Finn’s mother wiped tears from her cheek. Finn merely held his gaze and waited. Magnus found himself admiring the young boy more.

He’s negotiating for something. “What would it take for you to believe me?”

The boy shrugged and looked away. His fragile shoulders slumped.

And Magnus felt a flash of uncertainty. He hadn’t come to make any of the children feel worse. His father would have had all of them smiling and hanging on his every word. There had to be something he could say that would bring the boy some comfort.

Finn looked up suddenly and said, “I want to meet Water Bear Man. Bring him instead of a clown, and I’ll believe you.”

Magnus had nodded once and stood. “Done.”

That, of course, had been before he discovered that the actor who played the role didn’t take phone calls, not even from royalty. Had he known then that speaking to a narcissistic Hollywood pretty boy would require attending his premiere, he might have negotiated for something less tedious.





Chapter Two

Rachelle slid out of a limo and into a blitz of camera flashes. She was so focused on keeping her knees together and the top of her gown in place that she forgot to smile. Temporarily blinded from one particularly bright flash, she stumbled and grabbed the arm of the driver to steady herself.

“Is anyone else getting out?” one of the photographers asked.

“Doesn’t look like it,” someone else answered.

The flashes stopped.

“Who is she?”

“Westerly’s sister? I forget her name. Trust me, she’s nobody.”

Ouch.

Rachelle thanked the driver and started down the red carpet with her head held high. They were right. She didn’t belong on the red carpet, but her request to go in early had been denied. Had she spoken with Eric before attending, he might have resolved the issue with ease. But even if she had been able to find him, what would she have said? “I know you didn’t invite me, but I weaseled a way in through your publicist. I don’t mean to go all high maintenance on you, but could you also make sure I arrive in the fashion I’m used to—beneath the cloak of invisibility?”

What matters is that when he does realize I was here, he understands it was because I’m proud of him.

Becoming famous as a cape-and-tights-wearing hero who had gained his superstrength and powers by being bitten by thousands of radioactive water bears (a.k.a. hardy microscopic tardigrades) might not have been Eric’s dream, but his fans adored him. At least one child in every first-grade class she’d ever taught had found out Rachelle was related to Eric Westerly, Water Bear Man. She’d even made the mistake once of saying she was. The children had wanted to write to him, FaceTime with him, connect with him in some way that one would expect to be able to when their teacher was his sister.

The dynamics of her family weren’t something she could explain to a room full of six-year-olds, or even their parents when they’d become equally excited. Eventually Rachelle had added a qualifying word out of necessity. Whenever she’d been asked about Eric, she’d said he was her estranged brother, and for those who required more clarification, she’d added, “We don’t talk.”

I’m here to change that.

Brett says family is what we make it. Nicolette believes our family defines us. Mom says love doesn’t just happen—it takes work. And as Grandmother likes to say, “We are what we do. If you want something but do nothing to attain it, you are no better than someone who isn’t intelligent enough to know what they want.”

I can’t believe I’m taking advice from any of them.

Her oldest brother, Brett, hadn’t been part of her life until he’d gotten engaged to her best friend. Her mother was still recovering from being exposed as a liar. Rachelle had defended her out of love, but she still struggled with how her mother could have cheated on their father, let everyone assume the divorce had been his fault, then married Mark, the man she’d had an affair with—without ever telling anyone he was Spencer’s biological father.

Nicolette was still struggling with not knowing for sure who her father was. She’d recently decided to table the conversation and spend time away from the family instead.