Page 93 of The Billionaire

“But why does there have to be any saving? What if this was…is genuine?”

I placed my mug down on the distressed coffee table and reached for my laptop.

“Oh, you’re not checking your assignments!”

“I’m not. I’m going to Google him.”

There we sat, sipping our drinks loading the search engine for Kyle McMaster.

And there right before our eyes were the very sites he didn’t want me to see, the sites that I knew very well that once I clicked them, my view and opinion of him of being perfect would drift away, and I’d be left in even more confusion.

Kyle McMaster, a murderer.

Money talks, Murder doesn’t.

Billionaire gets away from manslaughter.

“What the…I may need something stronger to open this.”

I felt scared to click the link.

“There has to be an explanation.”

In my shock, Shelly clicked away.

19 year old actress, Charolette Nichole Danes found dead in the home of billionaire Kyle McMaster.

“Oh my gosh, I remember her from that one show on CW. Wait, what? He’s a billionaire?!”

“Oh. My. God…” Panic, heat, electricity filled my veins. I remember her too! I was only a teenager but it was the hottest show. I knew she died, but this is crazy—she died-at-his-home!

“Click on that link.…”

Full of life, full of hope, full of a promising career, rising actress and star of New Light on the CW, has been found dead at billionaire Kyle McMaster’s home in Brentwood LA.

“He lives here. In LA?” I was breathless, hands shaking.

“You didn’t know where he lived?”

“No.”

“Well, this was from like eight years ago. And—”

“He’s a murderer! He’s a freaking murderer….” I walked away from the couch and began pacing. Shaking. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“You don’t know that, you know? You really don’t. Anything could have happened. It could have been a party. She could have slipped and fell. I mean, there’s a lot of things that could have happened.”

“This is pretty heavy.”

“McKenzie, don’t write him off. If he was off, he was off. Not guilty.”

“But didn’t you see the press? Money talks.” I spun away.

“Yeah, but not all the time. People can be prejudice towards money, you know.”

If anyone knew, she did. I knew that.

But yet I couldn’t shake what I was feeling. There was no way. I stormed into my bedroom and retrieved my jogging leggings, sports bra, and sweatshirt and laced up my sneakers.

“It’s 4 in the morning!” Shelly cried out in panic and disbelief.

“I can’t sleep. I can’t think. I need to run. This is freaking insane. I can’t handle any of this. I’m on the verge of a breakdown! Seriously!”

Yet I couldn’t even clear my head even as I ran my favorite path along the ocean. It was dark and it was just me, the waves, and the stars in the sky, but even with blasting music in my ears, it wouldn’t suffice.

I came back to my apartment and took a shower. It was 6:30am. I would sleep just for a REM cycle and make it to my class.

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