September 2005, Los Angeles

  I got out of my Lambhini and crossed over to hold the door open for the dy apanyionight.

  Rihanna looked stunning in the shreen dress she had chosen, but I could sense her hesitation. She wasirely fortable being out tonight. Pg my haly on the small of her back, I noticed her flinch ever so slightly. The rea was brief—she quickly posed herself and offered a small, practiced smile.

  "Hey," I whispered, leaning in slightly. "Are you okay? We go somepce else if you'd prefer."

  She shook her head, her gaze lifting to the sleek exterior of the restaurant before us. "I'm fi's just…" She hesitated, her eyes trag the glowing sign above. "Not what I expected."

  We stood before Arashi's, one of LA's most exclusive Japanese restaurants. With only five tables avaible, it was renowned for its privad fine dining experience. Pricey for most people, but perfect for someorying to avoid prying eyes. I had chosen it as the venue for our 'first date' precisely because dining in public could feel intrusive—any fan could walk up mid-meal for an autograph. Tonight, I wahe focus to be on us, and also to celebrate my moal YouTube deal with Rihanna.

  Yes, you heard that right. After loiations that went the entire day, I mao vihe trio of fouo sell me a 70% stake in their fledgling pany. The deal had been tough—lots of bad forth—but I hadn't budged beyond my initial offer: 50 million to the founders and 50 million more as an iment in the pany. Even at that price, I knew I was being generous.

  That's why I'd taken a brief hiatus from [Harry Potter] to fly to California and finalize the deal in person. California w required the transfer of shares to be registered in-state, so my presence was noiable. My dad apanied me as my legal guardian, but he'd decided to stay back at our pce tonight while I took the opportunity to enjoy an evening out with Rihanna.

  "Let's go in," she insisted, her voice firm but her smile still not quite reag her eyes. "I'm craving sushi."

  I knew she utting up a front, but I decided to save the versation for ter. her my arm, I felt her grip tighten slightly as we made our way toward the entrance. My bodyguard, Paolo, had already coordinated our arrival with the restaurant staff, and they were waiting by the door to greet us.

  From the outside, Arashi's appeared unassuming, even quaint, but insiders knew how difficult it was to secure a reservation here. In fact, Dad had to call in a few favors to get us a table.

  We were promptly seated, and our non-alcoholic drinks arrived quickly. After pg the order for appetizers, the overly enthusiastic waiter finally left us in peace. I turned my attention fully to Rihanna, ready to start the versation, but she spoke first.

  "I don't think I'm ready for this, Troy," she said softly, her eyes meeting mih a mixture of vulnerability aermination.

  I raised an eyebrow, puzzled. "What exactly do you think I want you to be ready for?"

  "A real retionship," she said quietly. "I like you. I like you a lot. But…" Her gaze dropped, drifting away from mine. "...I'm not good enough for you."

  For a moment, I was at a loss for words. This wasn't what I had expected, nor had I intended for our time together to carry such weight. Perhaps this date had sent mixed signals.

  "I asked you out tonight because I'm heading back to London tomorrow, and we won't see each other for months," I said seriously. "I'm not looking for a serious retionship either. I like you a lot, too—but only as a friend. And even if that weren't the case, you are ten times the person I'll ever be. If anything, it's me who doesn't deserve you."

  I meant every word. While I'd long siopped feeling guilt over taking opportunities from actors of the inal timeline, a part of me still believed my success stemmed rgely from the unfair advantage of meta-knowledge. Rihanna, in the inal timeline, had built her empire through sheer talent and hard work—she didn't need shortcuts or hacks to achieve greatness.

  She scoffed softly before letting out a small ugh. "Now I know you're lying through your teeth."

  "I'm not," I replied firmly. "You're the sexiest, baddest, mea, most talented person I've ever met. Did I mention you're the sexiest?"

  Her giggle told me I'd struck the right note, and her earlier worries seemed to fade.

  "Thank you for saying that, Troy." She reached across the table to take my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. But the lightness of the moment didn't st. Her expression grew somber once again, her voice dropping as she tinued. "The st few days have been tough. People have started creating whole websites just to trash-talk me—all because I'm dating you. They've even dug up things about my past and my family that I never wanted ao know. Reading some of it…" Her voice wavered. "It's so hurtful. Sometimes, it's too much."

  My eyes widened. I had no idea she'd been dealing with this.

  "Are you okay?" I asked, g my words. "Ri, you have to promise me you'll stop going oo read that stuff. It's not good for you. Just ig."

  "That's what my manager says," she admitted shakily. "But it's hard, you know? Sometimes, it's just… too much." She shook her head. " we talk about something happier instead?"

  I nodded immediately, eager to lift her spirits. "How's your mom doing?"

  Her face lit up, and she unched into a string of stories about her family, her voice doing a oy immediately.

  I gave her my full attention, though part of me couldn't shake the worry that I felt about her. I khe temptation to read eople said o was all too familiar. When my biological mom had leaked details about my early childhood, I couldn't resist diving into the sea of public opinion. But I liked to think I'd grown sihen. These days, I avoided such articles and never sought them out deliberately.

  But that's because I've been in the industry for nearly half my life now. Rihanna, oher hand, was still o all of this. It made sehat her curiosity would get the better of her. Months ago, when Dad had warned us this kind of scrutiny might happen, she had put on a brave face. But now that it was real, it was clear the experience had left its mark.

  Right then, the waiter arrived with our appetizers.

  "Thank you," I said with a polite smile before turning back to Rihanna, who seemed much lighter and more bubbly now.

  Maybe it's best to keep my s to myself and focus on the present.

  "Would you like to order the main course?" I asked.

  "Let me at least taste the appetizers first," she teased gently before taking a bite.

  Her blissful expression told me everything I o know—she was loving it. Not oo miss out, I joined her in sampling the fine Japanese delicacies in front of us. The names were too difficult to pronounce, but the taste spoke for itself.

  "I ate so much tonight, I feel like I'm about to burst," Rihanna moaned as we stepped out of the restaurant. My arm was draped around her waist, steadying her as she leaned heavily against me.

  I chuckled at her antics. "Don't worry, love. Once we're back at your pce, you'll burn more calories than you've ever ed in one night."

  Her eyes gleamed with mischief. "Is that a promise?"

  "It could be," I said with a grin before leaning in to pnt a soft kiss on her lips.

  Click.

  The unmistakable sound of a shutter cut through the moment, making me freeze. I immediately pulled away and sed the area. It didn't take long to spot the culprit—a man running toward us with a rge camera in hand, fnked by two others with simir equipment.

  I cursed inwardly. Wanting a quiet evening with Rihanna, I'd opted to ditch my personal security for the night and had driven her myself. Arashi's was a discreet spot, so this ambush was ued. Someone from the staff must have leaked our presence for a quick payout.

  "Troy!" The man, likely in his te twenties, shoved a microphone in my face. "Is it true you're dating Rihanna out of pity? There was an article in The Sun about it."

  The Sun is the most notorious of tabloids in the UK. So if they say something, it is more likely than not that it would be false.

  Rage fred within me, but I swallowed it down. Without a word, I tightened my arm around Rihanna and quied my pace toward the parking lot, where my car was waiting.

  "e on, Troy," the man pressed, his tone needling. "Just one question. How about you, Rihanna? Are you dating Troy only for his money?"

  The other tarazzi trailed behind us, snapping photos and videos of this iion nonstop. I kept Rihanna close, shielding her as best I could while we power-walked toward safety.

  But then the one shouting the questions crossed the line.

  "Hey, Rihanna!" The man from before was following us closely, and this time, he grabbed her arm.

  "Don't touch me!" Rihanna screeched, her voice cutting through the night like a knife.

  I lost my cool. I knew I shouldn't have, but in that moment, I didn't care about anything else. Grabbing the man's wrist, I forcibly pried it off Rihanna and held it in an iron grip. He had the audacity to grin, as if he'd hit the jackpot—but his smug expression vanished when I judo-flipped him to the ground. Hard.

  He groaned in pain, clutg his back as he y sprawled on the pavement.

  Now that I had grown physically, it was easier to fully utilize the martial training I had honed over the years.

  Rihanna's eyes widened in shock, her face pale. "You shouldn't have dohat, Troy," she said, her voice trembling. "He could sue you."

  "I don't care," I said fiercely, taking her hand in mine. "When you're with me, no oouches you without your permission."

  I gnced down at the man writhing on the ground. "He wouldn't have dared if we were in London. The ws there actually protederage kids from harassment by paparazzi. But here we are, in the so-called nd of the free."

  Turning toward the two remaining men, who were still rec with their cameras, I barked, "You two. Turn off your cameras."

  The older oammered, "Y-You 't tell us what to do."

  "I won't harm you," I said sharply. "But turn them off and hear me out. I won't touch you as long as you don't touch me or ah me."

  They exged hesitant gnces before plying. Good. At least some people still had a shred of on sense.

  "Here's how this is going to go," I begauring toward the man on the ground. "We'll be suing him for assaulting my girlfriend. As for you two, you have two choices. Either you sell the video footage to me right now, and I'll pay each of you 10,000. Or, you prepare to be sued. I'm super rich, and I won't hesitate to spend hundreds of thousands of dolrs tying you up in court for years if I have to. So, what's it going to be?"

  The younger man spoke first, his voice hesitant. "I'd like the 10k."

  "Good choice," I said with a cold smile before turning to the other man. He hesitated for a moment but quickly nodded in agreement.

  "I don't have a chee," I tinued. "e to my resideomorrow m, and you'll get your payment. Now, hand me your memory cards."

  "What if you don't pay us tomorrow?" the younger man argued.

  Without missing a beat, I pulled out my credit card and ha to him. "Here. Keep this. sider it insurance. If I don't pay you back, use it to buy whatever you want—up to 20k. Now give me the memory cards."

  They hesitated briefly but ultimately plied, handing over the memory cards. I pocketed them, then crouched down to the man still lying on the ground and removed the memory card from his camera as well. Part of me wao smash the camera, but I was calm enough now to resist the urge.

  With the cards secured, I turo Rihanna and guided her toward the parking lot, keeping a protective arm around her.

  She didn't say a word the entire walk to the car. It wasn't until we were seated ihat she finally broke the silence.

  "You shouldn't have hit him," Rihanna said softly as I drove past the restaurant. Her voice carried a mix of and worry. "He'll cause a big troversy for you."

  "I don't care," I said with utmost seriousness, my hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. "Your safety is far more important than any troversy."

  Rihanna didn't respond with words. Instead, she leaned over, resting her head on my shoulder. As much as the restrictive car space allowed, she ed her arms around me in a heartfelt embrace.

  "Thank you, Troy," she whispered.

  I smiled softly at her, stealing a quice before fog ba the road. I sped away toward our destinatioermio put the night's events behind us.

  (Break)

  Breaking News! Troy Armitage attacks i paparazzo for taking his photograph with his girlfriend.

  The video looped relentlessly oelevision s. It began innocuously enough, showing Rihanna and me exiting the restaurant together like any other couple enjoying a quiet evening. The footage captured our kiss, but then the se shifted.

  The three paparazzi arrived, cameras in hand, and the tensioed. The video cut abruptly to the moment I judo-flipped the man to the ground. Without audio, the story spun its own narrative—one where I ainted as a violent aggressor, snatg memory cards from defenseless photographers. The angle cleverly obscured the part where I handed over my credit card, leaving only the visual of the two meantly handing over their memory cards.

  "Troy Armitage, the actor known for pying Harry Potter, has shown everyohe ego child stars possess," the anchor drohe disdain dripping from her voice. "He seems to think he's above the w…"

  Dad muted the TV with a sigh and turo face me. I'd just walked in after spending the night at Rihanna's, but his expression told me this was not going to be a pleasant versation.

  "Care to expin what happened, son?" he asked tiredly, leaning ba his chair.

  I frowned, my eyes glued to the s where the video repyed on loop. "Damn it!" I swore under my breath. "There was a fuy! I didn't even see him."

  Dad's brow furrowed deeply. "What do you mean?"

  I unched into a detailed expnation of the events from st night, reting every moment as clearly as I could. With each word, Dad's frown only deepened.

  "This doesn't add up," he said finally, rubbing his temple. "Plenty of celebrities go to Arashi's. It's known for being discreet, professional, and off-limits to paparazzi. For those guys to show up at the perfect time and provoke you—a minor—into reag? That's not normal."

  I stayed silent, mulling over his words. He was right. Something about the situatio off.

  Dad leaned forward, his tone more serious now. "The more I think about it, the more it feels like someohis up. Deliberately."

  A grim realizatioled over me. "There's one way to find out," I said quietly. "The tarazzi should be here in a few hours to collect their payment. Let's see what they have to say."

  ______________________________________________

  AN: This is the first time a chapter is writteirely based on reader suggestions. One of the readers essentially gave me the entire summary of this chapter, and I had to include it because the idea won't leave my head.

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