Sweet Madness, page 17
Adjusting my iPad to the perfect angle, I tap on the screen to begin a live session.
I watch as thousands join the chat, instantly flooding it with greetings and emojis.
User1973: Ellaiza! 🩷✨ You’re back!
Kentonqueens: Stfu we missed you!!
Royalsbtxh: Hi, pretty girl! I missed your face!
The nerves that usually attack me every time I expose myself like this to strangers don’t appear. Instead, a bright smile slowly blooms on my face.
“Hey, loves!” I greet warmly, my voice carrying a blend of excitement and ease. “I missed you all too! So, I thought it would be fun if we could chat for a bit while I get ready for the day.” More comments keep coming in, and my excitement grows.
I pick up the Martee foundation brush and begin blending two of my favorite soft-tint foundations, my movements steady and practiced. I love makeup; it has always made me feel closer to Mom and my sisters. It’s something we all share, even my youngest sister, Evie.
Although my sisters’ techniques are far better than mine, Haven and Ambrose are in a phase where they love edgier makeup, while I lean more towards natural and clean girl makeup, just like Mom.
Mom used to tell me that less is more when it comes to makeup routines, while Dad would rather his girls don’t wear makeup at all. He almost had a stroke along with all three of my brothers when Everly started wearing blush and clear lip gloss. Mom had to step in to defend Evie, and he’s still bitter about it.
As I do my makeup, I chat with my viewers, answering questions about beauty tips and sharing my favorite products lately. When I decide to host a live chat, I briefly consider disabling the comments, but then what would be the point? I used to enjoy these sessions when I was younger. I just need to focus on the positive comments and ignore the rude and vicious ones.
Ten minutes into the live chat, I notice my siblings and cousins joining. Some greet me, some offer kind compliments, while my brothers and cousin Azariel just react to the video with either a heart or fire emoji.
I smile and greet them back.
All three of my brothers abhor social media—well, two of them do. Kyrin is a social media god if you ask him. Royal and Karl are more reserved but have accounts to keep track of all their sisters. Sometimes they forget I’m older and it’s my job to keep an eye on them, not the other way around. But there’s no point in arguing with two of the most stubborn men I’ve ever met, besides my parents. Those two are a deadly combination of my parents’ harshest traits.
Right now, as I do something that brings me joy and watch an outpouring of support from people I used to fear, I completely forget the threat to our lives and focus on the good—the now.
“You’re safe here…” Shaw’s words flash through my mind as I add concealer under my eyes, giving me the confidence to continue doing what I love.
I planned to keep a low profile here, but Shaw promised nothing would touch me and that I was safe. I have complete faith in Shaw Banning.
I’ve always had.
I go on to apply mascara, blush, and lastly my favorite pink lip oil. As I put the finishing touches on, I start to notice only positive comments in the chat. The negative ones are disappearing one by one.
I lean forward and touch the screen, trying to catch the vile comments, but they all vanish.
“What…” I whisper, confused, but then I think of Shaw and my heart melts.
This has him written all over it.
Is he somehow blocking the hateful comments? But how? And if so, he must be watching the live too.
I smile wide, feeling tiny butterflies cause a storm in my stomach at the thought of the grump protecting me from hateful words. He doesn’t have to do that—not really. He’s being paid to protect me from physical pain, not emotional, yet he is doing it.
With a full and happy heart, I continue having fun while getting ready, but all I can think about is how much I can’t wait to see the beautiful man again.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
My heart beats wildly but determined.
Soon, heart. Just hold on a little while longer.
I focus on my hair next. The scent of coconut and sweet almond oil mingles in the air as I carefully dispense a few drops onto my palm, applying a thin layer to smooth out any unruly curls. I occasionally glance at the comments scrolling on the screen, responding to my followers’ questions.
A warm smile spreads across my face as more messages of positivity fill the screen.
MaliaCor: I love the top, E! The color totally suits you! I’m glad you’re wearing it again. 😌
“Oh, wow, thank you so much!” I exclaim, my voice filled with genuine happiness as I read aloud some of the comments. “I’m really glad you like pink! It’s such a fun color, isn’t it?”
My fingers dance lightly across the screen, acknowledging each compliment with a heart emoji or a quick response. “You’re all so sweet,” I continue, my eyes sparkling with gratitude. “I’ve been trying out some new styles lately, and it means a lot to hear your kind words.”
The flood of encouragement continues to pour in, each comment lifting my spirits higher and pushing me closer to the girl I used to be before I only focused on the bad. “You’re beautiful, Ella!” one viewer writes. “Your curls are back,” chimes in another.
My heart skips a beat when I notice a familiar username: “AriannaKenton.” A rush of love floods my chest as I read the message that follows: “That’s my beautiful girl.”
Seeing my mother’s loving message amidst the sea of compliments from my followers makes my smile grow bigger and brighten my day.
“Mom!” I exclaim, my voice filled with emotion as I lean closer to the camera. “I’m so happy you’re here!”
The chat erupts with heart emojis and messages welcoming Mom. “Omg! No way! Hi, Arianna!” one viewer writes. “Queen,” another writes.
I take a moment to compose myself, my heart blooming with a thousand lovely emotions at once. “She is a queen indeed,” I began, my voice steady but touched with emotion. “You are a queen, Mom. You and Dad are my heroes… you mean everything to me.” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall, not wanting to ruin my makeup.
Mom’s response comes swiftly and pierces my heart in the best way. “You’re made of gold, Ellaiza. Always proud of you.”
With a tender smile, I mouth a silent “I love you” to the camera, my heart overflowing with love for my mother.
Soon after that, Mom leaves the chat with a “I love you, to Saturn and back.”
There’s no denying that throughout the live session, my confidence shines through, not just in my makeup skills or hairstyling techniques but in my ability to connect with my followers on a more personal level and not feel awkward about it. Some users ask personal questions, which I answer carefully, while others seek advice, which I give without hesitation.
This time feels different.
Not long ago, my life felt vain and empty, and even this simple moment felt forced. Today it doesn’t.
I feel lighter than I have in years, and that’s because of this magical place and its equally magical grumpy owner.
Almost done with my routine, I work on my hair. With each stroke of the comb, I gently untangle my black and pink curls, coaxing them into smooth strands that fall effortlessly into place. Then, with careful precision, I gather my dampened locks, securing them at the nape of my neck. With the bun secured, I study myself on the screen. The sleekness of my hair accentuates the angles of my face, framing my features with quiet and soft confidence. A few stray curls fall around my face, softening the severity of the style and adding a touch of natural grace and gentle femininity.
Happy with my appearance, I lean closer to the screen with a smile. “This was so lovely! Thanks for hanging out with me, everyone! Remember, you’re all beautiful just the way you are, and don’t you ever forget it or let anyone tell you otherwise. Until next time!” With a wave and a blown kiss, I end the live stream, feeling uplifted by the genuine connection I have just forged with an online community that once crippled me with anxiety.
Turning away from the screen, I glance out the window, my eyes falling on the tulip fields that stretch beyond the ranch. The vibrant and breathtakingly beautiful pink color of my favorite flowers dances in the gentle breeze, their petals fluttering like a living mosaic under the summer sun.
With my eyes fixed outside the window, an idea begins to form in my mind, sparked by the beauty of the tulip fields.
With brand new excitement and happiness, I jump from the seat and almost run to the door but stop when my eyes catch sight of the small basket nestled next to a sleeping Poppy. I thought my new furry friend would be a ball of energy, and although she is at times, she would rather spend her days sleeping. I don’t blame her.
The sight melts my heart instantly. Quietly, so as not to disturb the peaceful slumber of my adorable baby goat, I approach and gently lift the basket.
With utmost tenderness, I lean down and press a soft kiss on Poppy’s forehead. “Sleep some more, sweet girl.” She stirs slightly but remains peacefully asleep, nestled in her cozy corner.
Carrying the basket with care, I leave the room, love and happiness blooming in my heart just like Shaw’s tulips.
The late afternoon sun paints the sky in soft hues of orange and pink as I stand at the edge of the vast tulip fields, my heart racing with joy and excitement. In my hands, I cradle the woven basket, its contents wrapped carefully in a white cloth.
Geraldine stands patiently beside me, her glossy white coat shimmering in the gentle breeze, while daisies are interwoven in her lovely mane. I gently adjust the bridle and saddle, ensuring everything is secure before swinging myself into the saddle. Geraldine snorts softly, as if sensing my eagerness to begin my mission here.
With a gentle nudge of my heels, I urge Geraldine forward, and we set off at a slow pace, the rhythmic sound of hooves against the earth echoing in the serene afternoon air.
I am enchanted as I take in the sight before me. The tulip fields stretch out before us like a vibrant and endless sea of pink, rows upon rows of flowers swaying gently in the breeze. I quickly close my eyes and inhale the sweet scent. The air is filled with the fragrance of blossoms, mingling with the earthy scent of the countryside.
There really isn’t anything better than this. Nothing. Not even the extravagant and lavish city lights.
As Geraldine trots deeper into the fields, my mood soars, flying above the clouds. I guide Geraldine between the rows, occasionally reaching out to pluck a perfect bloom and add it to my basket. I only stop when I have enough to fill his life and home with magical pink.
“Geraldine… I envy you,” I whisper as I pluck another flower and add it to the basket. “I wish this were my home. There’s nothing lovelier.” I smile as the brilliant horse tilts her head, as if trying to look back at me and understand the words I am saying to her.
Reaching out, I lovingly patted her soft coat. As Geraldine and I spend the afternoon collecting flowers, time passes in a tranquil blur, the only sounds being the soft murmurs of the wind and the occasional chirping of birds. Here too, I feel a sense of peace settle over me as I ride, surrounded by the beauty of Shaw’s magnificent ranch and the companionship of the sweet horse.
By the late afternoon, the basket is filled to the brim with tulips of every size imaginable. That’s when I know it’s time to head back, my heart a little heavy with the knowledge that the day’s blissful ride will soon come to an end, and I still haven’t laid eyes on the beautiful man.
Space Note
“One million earths could fit into the sun. Just like a million of you could fit in my heart.”— S
Chapter
Seventeen
MORE THAN FRIENDS
Shaw
“Nothing hurts more than a broken heart.” — S
Ispend all morning and the late afternoon mending broken fences, tending to the cattle, and ensuring everything runs smoothly at the ranch. But most of all, I spend the hours avoiding Ella and all thoughts of her. One is easy; the latter tortures the hell out of me from the moment I open my eyes this morning.
My mind keeps conjuring her image—her lips, her sparkling eyes, her perfect smile. Everything. I can’t escape her, not even in my sleep, because she even follows me there.
I get up early and start my day far from home to avoid running into her. I don’t want to get lost in those blue eyes of hers because it’s dangerous. She is dangerous.
Once, I was a man who lived for danger and the thrill of the forbidden, but I’m not that man anymore. She deserves better. I know it, and deep down, she knows it too.
Now, it’s late afternoon, and I find myself riding Peppermint as I always do to clear my head. It works for a brief moment, but then my phone rings, and thoughts of the beautiful, sweet creature bombard every corner of my mind.
“She’s doing well,” I say into the phone, my tone flat. “It seems that ranch life is actually doing her some good.” My cousin, Ben, is on the other end of the line.
“Is she eating enough?” Ben’s voice crackles through the line, concern evident even from miles away. “How are online classes going?”
I give a rock a kick with my boot while staring off into the distance. “You should ask her.”
“I’m asking you, asshole,” Ben snaps, clearly exasperated.
I glance toward the distant tulip fields. “She’s happy here. Her eyes are no longer sad.” At the same time, her beautiful, soulful eyes flash in my mind, and my heart starts to race.
There is a pause at the other end, as if Ben is assessing the situation. “And are you treating her like the princess she is?”
“I treat her well enough,” I reply firmly, not wanting to clue in my cousin on how messed up I am over the girl—the enchanting, forbidden girl.
“Cousin,” Ben mutters, “her heart is pure, and she’s strong, but she’s been struggling for a while now. I miss my little lady, and her parents and her siblings miss their sister—the real her.”
The real her…
A wistful smile tugs at my lips as I think of the Ella my cousin is talking about—the lovely and wild girl who had unknowingly captured my every thought with her pink obsession, silly antics, and genuine, sweet smiles.
That girl faded into the background in D.C., but here—with me—she starts to bloom.
I think of the heiress with dull yet expensive outfits, tamed curls, forced smiles, and sad eyes that remind me of the winter rainstorms I witness every year at the ranch.
There is a moment of silence between us, the only sound the faint rustling of the wind through the trees and the animals in the distance.
“On her first day here, she wore a pink cowgirl outfit and smiled from ear to ear while twirling around,” I begin again, my voice quieter now. “This was after I’d told her the night before that her time here wasn’t a vacation—I told her she needed to work.”
Ben snorts through the line.
I chuckle softly, a hint of amusement in my voice. “On another occasion, I find her in the stables, talking to the horses and giving them makeovers. Another day, she made me go inside a pet shelter, and now there’s a baby goat named Poppy invading my home.”
“A fucking goat,” the bastard chokes.
Rubbing my palm over my face, I reply, “A fucking goat.”
“But you hate animals in your space.”
My eyes stay on the tulip fields as I whisper, “I do.”
“I think she’s done you good too, little cousin.” Ben’s tone turns serious again. “But remember not to let your feelings cloud your judgment. This is about her safety above everything else.”
My feelings?
Fuck.
As always, Ben sees more than I care to share. Dammit.
The thought of my cousin believing I would put my feelings over Ella's safety cuts deep. He’s a good man, the best man, and he loves Ella, but damn, he’s known me all his life. He should know that even if I did have feelings for my client, I would never put her life at risk. Not ever.
I run a hand through my beard and say, “You don’t gotta remind me of anything, Ben.” I grit my teeth and add, “She’s a client and nothing more. I know my place.”
And I do. I’ve always known.
Ellaiza Kenton is the former first daughter, accustomed to a privileged life in D.C.. Every aspect of her former world is immaculate. She’s never known dirt or waded near scum. She is… Not. For. Me.
I’ve known that from the moment I saw her back on the empty road.
And I don’t need the goddamn reminder now.
“That’s not what I meant, fuc—”
“I’ll keep you posted. Take care of yourself, cousin.” With that, I end the call.
I pocket the phone and look out over the ranch, my thoughts drifting back to the source of my current turmoil, forgetting all about the call and the hurt it invoked.
Despite the complications, my feelings, and the risks, I am determined to see this through—to protect her, no matter the cost. At first, I think of her as a job—a tedious one—but now her safety triumphs over everything else. I need her safe, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make sure she stays that way.
I also need her smiles like I need my next breath—something I come to terms with today.
What I also come to terms with is the fact that I’m more messed up than I initially thought. Why is that? Because the idea of Ellaiza Kenton leaving this ranch and going back to her life cuts me deep to my bones.
As I look at the tulip fields in the distance, a sudden, torturous memory flashes through my mind—a memory that tightens my heart with conflicting emotions.
