Sweet Madness

Prologue

ELLA

“Is there still a place in your heart to keep mine safe?” – E

V enice, Italy

“One star, two stars…” I exhale, feeling my entire body shake with the effort.

Not even the magnificent sky above me, filled with twinkling stars, can lift my spirits tonight. Not even this wondrous city, rich with magic and history, can put a smile on my face. I’m starting to believe there’s something seriously wrong with me.

The reminder that I am privileged and so very blessed nags at me, but I push it away. Just for tonight, I let myself feel it all. Just for tonight, I let dark thoughts and sadness take root in my heart instead of pretending that everything is fine. After a while of pretending for the world, for my parents, it gets exhausting. So very tiring.

All is not fine, and it hasn’t been for a while now. It has nothing to do with the fact that I just found out my boyfriend of two years cheated on me with someone I considered a friend. What makes matters worse is that the world found out about it at the same time I did. If it weren’t mortifying enough to be betrayed by people I thought I knew, I had to go through it in the public eye. It is humiliating.

I have to smile through the disappointment and the hurt.

I’ve gotten so good at it that sometimes I even fool myself.

I know from a young age that privacy is something I would have very little of. My parents are public figures, and the world is fascinated with our family. Their fascination with my parents I understand, but I haven’t done anything extraordinary for the world. Nothing that really matters, yet I have millions of people following me on social media.

Millions of strangers.

They all want to know what I’m doing, who I’m dating, and all the juicy gossip.

Don’t get me wrong. I choose not to hide from the world and expose myself. I am not a victim, but for me, posting on social media is different from how it is for my siblings.

I love posting for myself and keeping in touch with my family. It also gives me the opportunity to help others. When I post about a charity I believe in, it gets thousands of likes and shares, which helps the cause. I also love promoting small businesses, and the exposure makes a difference. That’s why I do it.

But the media spins everything to make me look like a spoiled and vain heiress.

They don’t really care about all the good deeds I want to do for the less fortunate. We live in a world that values scandals more than good deeds. Sad but true.

Now my face is plastered all over the internet, with speculation about where I went wrong to make them betray me like they did. Typical.

The blame is placed on the one being cheated on instead of the lying jerk who cheated with someone else. Anger simmers in my stomach as their betrayal replays in my mind.

I slowly exhale, staring up at the sky with unshed tears in my eyes. How could you, Remi? I try to wrap my mind around the fact that someone I’ve known since middle school—someone I confided in and spent beautiful moments with, someone I let around my family—could have betrayed me like that for a fun time.

Does loyalty mean nothing to people anymore?

I guess not.

I knew this would happen, though.

I guess it was at the forefront of my mind throughout our relationship. I gave him my time and friendship, but I never truly let him have my heart, not in the way he craved. Maybe that is where I went wrong. I should have ended things when I realized I couldn’t love him the way he wanted me to.

I don’t truly think I’m to blame. He chose to betray me and hook up with someone who called herself my friend. They’re the ones to blame, not me.

And as if it weren’t hard enough for me to make friends, now I’ve lost two. Were they really my friends? I don’t know anymore.

Most people want to get to know me just because of my parents, my wealth, or sometimes to get to my siblings. It’s never been genuine. This should be a lesson not to trust so easily.

Life keeps reminding me that the only people I can trust are my family—my siblings and my cousins. Speaking of cousins, my younger cousins Raiza and Willow have been blowing up my phone with uplifting messages all day. Willow even sent me pictures of things I love: fun facts about galaxies and stars, baking videos, and photos of her making funny faces. All things I adore.

On the other hand, Raiza sent me a voice memo of Auntie Kadra offering to castrate Remi for me and telling me not to worry because Uncle Vitali is very good at making evidence disappear.

I love my family—messy, slightly psychotic, and all. I wouldn’t trade any of them for all the chocolate cupcakes in the world.

I make a mental note to answer my cousins later and send them some pictures that will surely make them smile: F1 videos for Low and pictures of young Leonardo DiCaprio for Rai. I love my cousins just as much as I love my siblings. I couldn’t do this without them.

Life.

The chaotic life I was born into.

“Ahhh,” I groan as the small gondola I’m on jerks, slowly moving toward the bridge, obscuring the sky from my view for just a moment before I can see the stars again.

One star.

Two stars.

“You still count stars, little lady?” A rough voice comes from behind me. While I’m so busy throwing my own pity party, I somehow forget that one of my favorite people in the entire world is accompanying me tonight.

A small smile appears on my face when I hear his voice. I can always count on him to make me laugh when all I feel is sadness and a crippling emptiness inside my chest. When I want nothing more than to hide from the world.

My Uncle Benji.

“Your mom is home and has never left your side since. Why are you counting stars?” Uncle Benji asks, sounding hurt.

It’s not Mom.

Suddenly, a thought crosses my mind. Maybe if I catch them all, he’ll come home… I don’t say that, though. I could never. But I know it’s the truth. My heart knows it’s missing something.

It’s missing someone.

No matter how many friendships I’ve built or places I’ve visited over the years, nothing ever filled that hole.

The one he left.

Looking away from the stars above, I turn to look over my shoulder at my uncle. An uncle not by blood but by everything that counts—heart and soul. That’s what Uncle Benji means to me. What he is to me. Part of my family.

He’s also Mom’s best friend, much to my father’s dismay.

He’s not only part of our family but also the head of our security team.

How did I forget my guardian Viking was sitting quietly behind me? Uncle Benjamin should be back in D.C., keeping my parents and younger siblings safe, but instead, Dad sent him abroad with me.

I’ve been to countless places long before I was even able to talk. I’ve traveled from one corner of the world to the other, always accompanied by either my parents or one of my cousins, with security, of course—but never alone.

So, when the urge to run from everything rose, I did just that. I left the States, and Uncle Benjamin followed me. Dad was reluctant to let me go at first, but he’s not very good at telling me no, especially when someone hurts me. But after the night I’ve had, I start to question if running away from the people who love me most was the right choice.

It sure doesn’t feel like it.

What a fool I’ve been.

Giving my uncle a small smile, I look upwards again. The night sky is full of stars tonight. They shine so brightly that I can see their reflections in the water below us.

“Do you know what that constellation right there is called, Uncle Benji?” He doesn’t know. The only person who always seemed to know the right answer was the man who is now just a fond memory.

“Sneakers or some shit?” I laugh and then roll my eyes. That’s Uncle Benji for you—always willing to make me laugh when he senses I need it most. “I think you mean the Milky Way, and no.” I lift my hand higher, and his eyes follow. “That is Ursa Major.”

He frowns, but an adoring smile tugs at his lips. “Huh. Looks like a bear to me.”

A bear.

The empty space in my heart starts to throb, and a searing pain soon follows.

Breathe, Ella…

I swallow hard, trying not to think too much about what the pain in my chest means. “Ursa Major is also known as the Great Bear. It’s the third-largest constellation in the sky and the largest constellation in the Northern Hemisphere,” I whisper.

Silence follows my astronomy fact, and I turn to look at Uncle Benji’s face. Instead of looking up at the sky, he’s staring back at me. His eyes soften when a tear falls from my eye. Reaching forward, he wipes it away, careful not to ruin my makeup. “It’s been a hard day, huh?”

I swallow hard and blink rapidly, trying to stop the tears from falling. I hate crying. It not only ruins my makeup but makes my people worry. That’s why I only do it when I’m alone and no one can see me.

But I can’t help it.

It’s been a tough couple of years, and as much as I try to pretend that everything is fine, it isn’t. I think something is wrong with me. I’m broken somehow.

That’s the only reason I feel the way I do when I have so much love and support around me.

My parents have always given me the world, but most importantly, their time and affection.

So why do I feel so empty?

“I sometimes forget how grown up you are. Some days, I still see you as the little baby who came into this world to shine her bright light on us. And then I see you now, and I wish you were still that baby.” He takes my face in his large palms and makes me look at him when I try to avert my gaze. “Don’t hide, little lady. Not from me. You’ve been hiding enough.” More tears fall, clouding my vision, but I can still see Uncle Benji’s sad brown eyes staring back at me. That’s why I detest letting them see me this way. It only hurts them. I hurt them. “Your father and I dreaded this day, you know?” He laughs, but there is no humor in his tone.

“What day?” I hiccup.

“The day a little jerk hurts your heart.” He sighs. “When you were a child, I could protect you from almost everything. I never failed.” He sounds sad, as if he feels disappointed in himself.

“You haven’t,” I say, grabbing his large hands. “I swear you’ve never failed me, Uncle Benji,” I whisper. He hasn’t. Not once. My parents, siblings, and Uncle Benji are the one constant in my life. Their love is unconditional, and my trust and faith in all of them never wavers—it never will. Of that, I’m sure.

He leans forward and kisses my forehead. “I did.”

“It’s more than just Remi and Susana. It’s?—”

Uncle Benji’s eyes leave mine as he looks up at the sky again, at the great big bear up there. Then his eyes return to mine, and he sighs as he lets go of my hand.

Before he can say anything, I stop him. He can’t know. Nobody knows. It’s a secret. One I’ve protected and hidden deep inside my heart for years. “I feel like something is missing,” I say, touching my chest, where the gold necklace my dad gave me for my twenty-second birthday rests. “Here.” I grab the diamond pendant that hangs from the gold chain and take a deep breath before I open up to my uncle. “I know there is so much to be happy about. So much to be thankful for. God, I have so much, yet in the back of my mind, it feels like it is not enough.” I breathe out. Just as quickly, I say, “I know I sound so ungrateful.”

“You sound human,” Uncle Benji whispers back. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting more for yourself.” He leans back, still staring at me. “May I say something?”

“Anything. You never have to ask.”

He smiles sadly. “Perhaps you feel like something is missing because you haven’t started living for yourself.”

Living for myself…

I frown. “I don’t understand.”

“Come on now, little lady. You’re the smartest person I know.”

My shoulders sag. “They’ll be so disappointed.”

Everyone will have something to say, even more than they do now. I can already imagine the headlines: Spoiled nepo-baby leaves law school in an act of rebellion… God, if only they knew how deep their lies and gossip cut me.

“If you believe that, then you don’t know your parents at all,” Uncle Benjamin whispers.

He’s right. I know he is.

Yet I can’t help but feel like I’m failing them somehow.

“The world thinks…” I swallow hard before continuing. “They already see me as?—”

“Forget what the world thinks. What do you want, sweetheart?”

What do I want?

I want so much, but it all seems so impossible.

The small things feel so out of reach for me.

I think about all my heart’s longings for a second before I whisper softly, not wanting the gondolier behind us to hear, “I want to be… me.”

The me that no one gets to see.

The hopeless romantic.

The girl who believes chocolate cupcakes with pink frosting and sprinkles could cure anything.

The girl who likes the stars, the moon, and all that hides in the great dark sky above us.

The girl who loves science as much as she does fashion.

That girl.

“There’s my girl.” Uncle Benji pulls me into his arms and squeezes me so tightly that even the small boat shakes with his force. He releases me and looks into my eyes. “There’s no one more beautiful and nothing and no one more special than you, Ellaiza Kenton.”

I grin at that. “What about Haven, Ambrose, and Evie?” I tease, knowing he loves us all equally.

Even my tyrant brothers.

Uncle Benji’s smile widens. “I love all of my girls, but you’ve always been and always will be my favorite.” He winks. “Your sisters give me headaches, while you give me magical hugs and cupcakes.”

I laugh at that.

I guess I was wrong. He does have favorites.

“I love you, Uncle,” I say, feeling loved beyond words.

“Right back at you, sweetheart.”

“Oh hey!” Out of the blue, a shooting star catches my attention. “Quick! Make a wish.” I close my eyes but then open one just a crack to see Uncle Benji staring up at the sky.

“I don’t believe in that sh—” he stops himself before he says something crass, then clears his throat and closes his eyes as well.

My mouth twitches. That’s what I thought.

I go ahead and make my wish.

The wish my heart has been holding onto for far too long.

Start living, you said, Uncle… alright then.

When I finish making my wish, I open my eyes again to find Uncle Benji staring at me with a tender look on his face.

So sweet, our giant Viking.

“What did you wish for?” I ask curiously.

Uncle grins, mischief written all over his expression. “If I tell you, it won’t come true, will it?”

I roll my eyes and smile.

The tears have dried, and the heaviness in my chest is forgotten, at least for now.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

My phone.

I almost don’t answer it until I see it’s a video call from Mom. I accept the call, and her stunning face quickly appears on the screen.

I smile when I see one of my favorite people in this world—my best friend.

My mother, Arianna Kenton, doesn’t look a day over thirty, yet she entered her forties last winter. How does she do it? I don’t know, but that’s my mother. She looks beautiful at her age without a single surgery or age-rewind treatment. She’s aged like fine wine.

In my eyes, there’s no one regale and more beautiful than my mother. She’s otherworldly. Mom’s blond hair falls in soft waves right above her shoulders in a sophisticated yet chic hairstyle. Her ears have delicate diamond snowflake earrings, just like her neck, where she wears a necklace with a diamond snowflake pendant.

Mom once told me that Dad won it for her in a poker game against Uncle Thiago.

Even today, when he plays poker with my uncles, Dad comes home with either a car, jewelry, or an island that he names after Mom.

Nothing has changed.

Their love is eternal. I truly believe that.

Dad worships the ground she walks on.

The media does too.

She’s a goddess, and the world knows it.

That’s why she graces the cover of every fashion and business magazine without being a model.

My mother is the CEO of her newspaper and magazine and has acquired many business ventures over the years. Some she shares with Dad, and some are just hers.

She’s a force to be reckoned with and even has a huge fan base. Over the years, her popularity has skyrocketed, making her one of the most well-known people on social media with millions of followers.

Her fans are loyal and obsessed, so much so that they follow us, her children, too.

Some are kind, but others are… well, ruthless and vile.

“Hey, Mom. I’ve been—” My mother’s frantic voice cuts me off in the middle of my sentence.

“I need you to do something for me, baby.” That’s when I notice the look in her eyes—a look I’ve never seen before on her.

Fear.

She’s… afraid.

Mom is never afraid.

“Mom. You’re scaring me. What’s wrong?” Dread creeps in, wrapping around my stomach like a serpent and keeping me from breathing. “Is it Dad?” I rasp. “The kids—” Mom cuts me off again.

“Put Uncle Benjamin on, baby.”

“Mom.”

“Ellaiza, now!” Mom has never yelled at me or my siblings. Never, not once.

That’s when I realize that whatever is happening has to be something truly awful.

Uncle Benji gently takes the phone from me and starts speaking in hushed tones so the man behind us can’t hear the conversation, but I can.

I hear it all.

And that’s when my entire world turns to shambles.

Someone is after my family.

“A ‘disturbed fuck,’” Uncle Benji hisses.

I think to myself, what could I have possibly done to attract this kind of attention? On social media, I post like any other girl my age would. I don’t post every aspect of my life like some of my friends from college or my cousins and siblings do. I’ve been posting on social media throughout my teen years, and nothing bad has ever happened. Yes, people often twist my posts to fit their own narrative, but isn’t that just part of being in the public eye?

I’ve always kept a low profile, unlike my siblings who enjoy the spotlight. I was the perfect daughter: obedient and driven to make my parents proud. I followed in my father’s footsteps, pursuing a law degree to honor his legacy as his firstborn.

That’s normal by elite standards.

I did nothing out of the ordinary.

Until a few months ago, when my following increased dramatically because I started doing more charity work. The public caught wind of it and turned my desire to help the less fortunate into a circus.

I’ve been all over the news lately, either for my good deeds or for scandals—mostly lies the media spreads to sell their trashy magazines or blog posts. Some are true, like Remi’s public betrayal.

And now this.

Someone tried to enter my apartment back in D.C., and left disturbing packages not only in my building but also at my parents’ residence, where my younger siblings live.

Why is this happening now?

I thought I could change the world by making it a better place. Now I’m being stalked by a faceless creep for it.

Social media. It’s one dark, dark place.

With anger written all over his face, Uncle Benji turns around and says something to the gondolier before ending the call with Mom and facing me.

“Code Black.”

Code Black. I’ve never heard that one before. Not once.

“Please use normal words.” My head starts to pound. A headache will surely follow.

Once the gondola stops, Uncle Benji stands and offers me his hand. “Let’s go back to the hotel, grab your things, and I’ll explain on the way.”

“On our way where?” I ask, but he doesn’t answer, probably not wanting anyone to overhear.

After we retrieve my things from the hotel and board the plane out of Italy, Uncle Benji explains what “Code Black” means. Being the good girl that I am, I agree to everything without a single complaint.

Because that is who I am—Ellaiza Kenton: the good girl and overachiever heiress.

My father’s daughter.

My mother’s pride.

Everything is for everyone else, never me.

But what I don’t expect is my heart’s wish coming true the same night I learn that a disturbed individual is targeting anyone with the Kenton name, especially my brother, Royal.

If only I had known then that nothing would ever be the same. That this frightening news would set off a whirlwind of events that would lead me toward forever.