Her Roughish Billionaire (Jaded Billionaires of Willow Ridge #4)

Prologue

FELICITY

“No. No, no, no, no, no,” I mutter, heart racing as I fall to my knees in the old den.

Water damage makes the room smell wet and mouldy, and the damp floors don’t help. The old antique rug my grandmother hand-picked herself is soiled; when I peel it from the floor, I jump back at the mould growing beneath.

Oh, god, how long has this been going on for? How long have I ignored this?

The den is the only room that goes unused. It’s meant to house what’s left of my grandparents. Their knickknacks and the things they picked up on their travels. Antiques they fell in love with when they road tripped around America. The little things they found when I was young.

But the damp, musty room is destroying it, and I never realised.

I push to my feet and rush to the old bookshelf, sighing in relief when I find the books aren’t all damaged—yet.

Totes. I need plastic totes, vinegar, and bags. Cloths, lots of cloths. I need to save as much as I can, clear out the den, and assess the damage.

God, I’ve been so spacey since the billionaires started staying here. I can’t tell how long the leak has been there, maybe a few days, maybe longer.

Tears burn my eyes as I leave the den and slam directly into the hard chest of one of my guests.

“Wow there,” he murmurs, voice low. “What are you running from?”

My mouth goes dry as I pull away from him. The ever-charming Damien Winthrop, with his swept back curls, neatly trimmed and styled scruff, stares at me like I’m some form of amusement. Maybe to him and his friends, that’s exactly what I am.

I can’t deny having them buy out all the rooms at the inn for three times the price they go for per night hasn’t been helpful.

That extra money is going into fixing the leak—once I find it.

Thanks to them, I’ve paid off my student loans, put money aside for future renovations, and might have more than enough to fix whatever problem I have.

But it all ends as soon as they settle into their new home. The cash flow will end. And I have to be smart.

Especially since they’re essentially going to be my direct competitors. Who will want to stay at a run-down inn when there’s a massive lodge with nearly one hundred rooms you can stay at instead?

“Nothing,” I reply finally, clearing my throat. “Just don’t go in the den.”

Damien’s eyes crinkle as he looks past me into the room, but instead of questioning me, he raises his hand and salutes me. “Noted.”

Dark eyes sweep over me in a way that makes me shiver, but the man shoves his hands into his pockets before walking away, not a care in the world.

Wouldn’t it be nice to have endless money? To never want for anything?

Wouldn’t it be nice to be a Winthrop?