The Mail Order Billionaire (DC Billionaires Book 3)

by Eliza Ellis

  “Velin is making a play for the crown,” Maxim cut in. “And what he has on my family is enough to ruin us.”

  The last words were said so softly Deanna had to lean close to hear them. He must’ve thought she wanted to be near him because he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She didn’t mind the contact. “Say that again?”

  The longer he stared into her eyes, the more sadness she saw. “Velin has information on Novak’s real parentage. He’s…he’s not a Malenkov.”

  At that moment, a stewardess entered the cabin with a cart of food since they had skipped out on lunch making a run for it. The only reaction Deanna made was sucking her lips in.

  “We’ll take it in the bedroom,” Novak ordered. He watched her disappear before returning his gaze to Deanna. “His father is one of the party leaders—the one Velin has influence over.”

  “Of course he is.” Deanna sighed, realizing what that meant: Velin controlled parliament. She grasped Maxim’s hand. “How are you feeling about all of this?”

  The stewardess walked back in, said the meal was set up, and then excused herself. Maxim took Deanna’s hand, and they moved into the privacy of the bedroom. Maxim inhaled. “That smells good. I haven’t eaten all day.” They sat at a small dining table. “As you can imagine,” Maxim began to answer to her question, “I don’t care who his real father is. He’s my brother, and he’s the king.”

  Deanna nodded. “I understand, and I commend you for that position. But…” That meant Maxim was really king unless his father wasn’t a Malenkov either. “If Velin is making a play for the crown, you’re next in line, right? How does that benefit him?”

  Maxim stabbed the meat with a sharp knife. “Well, if I had married Leonor, then his heirs would be Degonian royalty.”

  “But you didn’t. And she wouldn’t have become queen unless…” Her mouth formed an O. Maxim’s crestfallen face gave it away. “He would’ve had Novak killed?”

  “Or had him exposed as a fraud, then Leonor and I would be crowned.”

  “I still don’t see how us leaving helps.”

  “Novak is going to convince Velin that I am divorcing you—”

  “While we get dirt on him?” she asked in a hopeful voice.

  Maxim chuckled. “I like the way you think. I suggested the same, but Novak wants no more of these games. He’d rather dissolve the monarchy.”

  “Do you believe that will happen?”

  Maxim sighed and dropped his napkin beside the plate. He had said he was hungry, but most of his food remained untouched. “I’m not sure. But Novak did agree to my plans for the northern villages.”

  “That’s something, at least.”

  “I don’t know how long we can thwart Velin before he tells the whole country that a Malenkov isn’t sitting on the throne.”

  “What about trying to convince his father to stop Velin?”

  “He’d have to lie about the parentage. Velin has a letter from Mother’s doctor—who’s now deceased—that proves she told him about Novak’s father. We don’t know how long Velin has been planning this. Probably since Leonor’s birth. His country was already pushing to dissolve the monarchy by then.”

  “Oh, Maxim, this is horrible! Your brother must be under so much pressure.”

  Maxim nodded. “I had no idea. He’s been dealing with this ever since I left for America. He didn’t want me involved because of what he was going through.”

  “He was trying to save you.”

  “But he saw no way out of it. He preferred that I did marry Leonor.”

  “What do you want to do about all of it? Do you want a divorce?”

  Maxim studied her eyes. “Are you asking me because you want it?”

  She bit her lip and shrugged. “You have to admit, this hasn’t been the…smoothest of starts.”

  Maxim launched from the seat. “Does it matter? None of this is really about you or me.”

  “Actually, it is,” she argued gently. “If you don’t divorce me, then Novak could lose the crown. You’d have to return home and be king—”

  “And you couldn’t be my queen, is that it?” he asked sharply.

  Deanna sat quietly, considering. She had no idea what being queen meant. From what she understood, the Degonian monarchy was more like a figurehead. The real power lay with parliament. “Would it even be safe for us to return to Degonia? With Velin on the loose?” she asked evasively.

  Maxim smiled sardonically. “You never thought about what being married to a royal would be like?”

  Deanna rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I had much time.”

  Maxim’s smile vanished. “I need to know, Deanna,” he implored quietly. “I need to know if all of this is…worth it.”

  “Are you ready to quit?”

  He raked his hand through his hair, strands falling loosely over his forehead, making him look ten years younger. “That’s the second time you’ve asked me about ending our marriage. I’m beginning to believe you’d rather not be married.”

  Deanna looked at her food. Maybe she was. Maybe all of this had been too fast, too soon. She had been supportive, but maybe her subconscious had been pushing her to fail at another marriage. “The talk show…” she whispered considering out loud. She had a commitment to appear on the talk show, with her new husband, and claim to be wonderfully, blissfully in love.

  Maxim snorted. “Don’t worry. If you want to keep up with the charade then let’s do it. We’re all a bunch of liars anyway, right?”

  Deanna’s gaze snapped to his. He looked hurt. Like she had betrayed him. She just wasn’t sure. Especially not after learning she might be queen. She was just a mathematician who wanted to help people get their happily-ever-afters. “Maxim…I honestly do know.”

  Maxim grabbed his plate and silverware. “I’ll sleep outside.”

  And he soundly shut the door behind him.

  Chapter 22

  Deanna waved at a startled receptionist as she raced to her office. She’d sent a quick message to Rita and Grace for an urgent meeting. It wasn’t even eight in the morning, but she wanted counsel.

  After a restless sleep on the plane, they disembarked with a car taking Maxim in one direction and her rented vehicle going the opposite. Deanna had been stunned into silence when Maxim had told her that he ordered two cars so they could go their separate ways for the time being. He didn’t want to stay together? Not even to talk about last night?

  Maybe she should’ve done more talking last night. But she couldn’t without spending time processing the information. Novak not being a Malenkov. The possibility she and Maxim would be king and queen of Degonia. Leaving her work—her friends, her life—behind and settling in a foreign country. The Degonians had been so kind and generous.

  Well, some of the people.

  Although the people generally approved of Maxim’s “smart and beautiful wife,” they were ignorant of how close she was to the crown. Would their opinions change if she were queen?

  “Rita! Grace!” Deanna shouted when she stepped into her office.

  “We’re over here.” Rita said from the couch. “No need to shout.”

  “We’ve brought breakfast and coffee, if you want it,” Grace added. She stood and peered at Deanna. “Dee, what’s wrong? You look terrible?”

  Rita’s head dropped back, and she groaned. “Please don’t tell us it’s Maxim. Let us continue believing that such a beautiful package could do nothing wrong.”

  “It’s Maxim, but not in the way you’re suggesting,” Deanna said, making a face at Rita. “We haven’t…”

  Rita’s head snapped back into place. “What?” she and Grace asked in unison.

  “There are more important issues!” Deanna flung her purse into her chair and stripped off her coat.

  “I guess asking about the honeymoon is out,” Rita grumbled.

  “Tell us what’s wrong,” Grace said when Deanna joined them in the sitting area.

  “Maxim and I…might divorce.” Dea
nna paused and waited for the outburst that didn’t come. “Um, okay. Thought I’d get more of a reaction from that.” Rita and Grace exchanged a glance.

  “Why?” Grace asked calmly.

  “Long story short, Maxim was supposed to marry Princess Leonor—who is gorgeous, but really full of herself—so her father could have more influence.”

  Rita laughed. “Really? That’s how the royals do this? Was that some sort of a bargain he made, because Maxim didn’t mention that in his letter?”

  “No. He didn’t know about it. At least, not about Velin—Leonor’s father. He’s trying to bring down the Malenkov monarchy by blackmailing Maxim’s brother Novak. It’s likely Maxim will have to be king because his brother is only his half-brother.”

  Grace put her hands over her mouth and gasped. “He’s illegitimate!”

  “Exactly.”

  “So you get to be queen!” she squealed. “That’s so exciting. Like, the first black queen of an eastern European country, right?”

  “I don’t get it,” Rita asked, munching on a chicken biscuit sandwich. “If you’re about to become queen, why the divorce?”

  “Maxim doesn’t want to be king. In order to save his brother, he’ll…” Deanna stopped short.

  “He’ll divorce you and marry Leonor,” Rita finished.

  Deanna rotated the coffee cup in her hand. “He never actually said that.” Deanna had assumed because she’d been fixated on seeing no other recourse for their relationship other than divorce. Why didn’t she want this to work? Why fight her algorithm? She’d worked too hard to fail again.

  “So you suggested the divorce?” Rita asked.

  “Why would you do that?” Grace whined.

  Deanna could only shrug as her answer. “He said he’d come on the show first. At least I’d have my reputation intact for a few more days or weeks. It’s all still up in the air.” When her friends said nothing more, Deanna’s gaze vaulted between them. “What?”

  Grace curved in on herself. “We have to tell her.”

  “I know.” Rita sighed. “I was just hoping this would work out, you know?”

  “Tell me what?” Deanna cried.

  “Um…” Rita violently rubbed her forehead. “Well…you shouldn’t go on that show.”

  “Yeah. Work on your marriage,” Grace agreed with a nod.

  “What aren’t you two telling me?” Deanna demanded.

  Rita pulled out a folded piece of paper from her jeans pocket and handed it to Deanna. “You two aren’t actually a match. At least, not as strong as you think.”

  Deanna practically tore the paper to shreds unfolding it. “What do you mean, not a match?”

  “His lawyer has been hounding us for the complete test results and…well, I haven’t released them because it would prove Maxim’s not really your match.”

  “Well, he is, just not the highest one,” Grace added.

  “He’s actually what you’d consider pretty low,” Rita clarified.

  Deanna’s eyes scanned the paper. He was below a seventy percent match. A probability of working but not high enough to eliminate nearly all doubt. Air drained from Deanna’s lungs. “How is this possible?” she croaked. “I saw the results myself.”

  “That’s my fault,” Grace whispered. Deanna met her gaze. “I just figured…he looked so handsome, and he’s got a lot going for him. You deserve to be happy, even if it’s not here with us,” she said meekly.

  Deanna trembled, her body cold. She slowly stood. “You gambled with my life and my heart! I would expect this from Rita—”

  “Hey!” Rita said with a scowl.

  “—but not from you, Grace!”

  Grace cowered in her seat. “I know! I’m sorry, Deanna. But I didn’t change anything about his profile—just yours. I might’ve moved the needle on your level of fear and anxiety about intimacy.”

  Moved the needle? Moved the needle! She was afraid. She was anxious. The image of her lying in Maxim’s arms in the abandoned farmhouse filled her vision. She had become more comfortable since meeting Maxim. But Grace couldn’t have predicted that outcome. With what algorithm?

  “It’s not completely her fault,” Rita said, sounding bored. “I thought the idea was genius. None of the guys in our database were going to be a good fit for you, honestly. High marks, but not high enough. Lots of similarities, but you needed something…”

  The paper crumpled in Deanna’s fist. “What? Tell me what you think I need,” she spat.

  Rita stood then, making a show of force with hands on hips. “You needed someone different. Someone who would take you out of complacency and comfort. Someone you didn’t see coming. And by the looks of things, it worked.”

  Deanna laughed harshly. “Really? How so? We’re not even living together. We’re probably getting—”

  “Don’t say it!” Grace slammed her hands to her ears. “You’re only saying it because you want to sabotage it.” Frustrated, she stood as well, her eyes pinning Deanna to her spot. “Admit it!”

  Deanna’s breath came out shaky and rapid. Tears filled her eyes. “I’m a fraud!”

  “No, you’re not!” Grace shouted back, stepping forward.

  Deanna retreated. She held the paper up. “This proves it. I was supposed to marry… How can I go on the show now and prove the science? I didn’t even marry my match.”

  “He is your match, Deanna,” Grace gently pressed. “Look at you! You’re crying, trembling because you’re going to lose him—”

  “You really do look a hot mess,” Rita agreed with a solemn nod. “Did you even look in the mirror when you dressed? Your boots don’t even match.”

  “I’m trembling because I’m afraid of what people are going to say!” Deanna shouted. “Who cares what I look like?”

  Grace gripped her shoulders. “Does Maxim want a divorce?”

  “He will when he sees this.” Deanna held the paper up again.

  “That’s not what I asked, babe.”

  Deanna collapsed into the seat behind her. Fissures tore through her heart. She couldn’t stay married to him, not after this. “I have to tell him,” she sobbed.

  “Eh, you could just avoid it like I’ve been doing,” Rita said.

  Deanna blew her nose with tissues Grace handed her. “Send the report to him. Tell him… Tell him we’re very sorry but there was some sort of glitch and…” Deanna couldn’t say that the marriage shouldn’t have taken place. It would mean acknowledging another failure.

  It was a good thing she couldn’t reach her parents.

  “Fine.” Rita started angrily slamming the keys on her laptop. “Still think you’re making a mistake not staying married to him. When you video chatted with us after your romantic night in the cottage, it was obvious that we’d made the right choice.”

  “The choice belonged to the algorithm, that was the point.”

  “The point is sometimes love can’t be explained,” Grace said softly. “I know it goes contrary to what we do here, but you did something impulsive, and so did we. And it turned out great.” She frowned. “Sort of.”

  “I have to go back on air. Tell everyone the truth.” Just hearing the words fall out of her mouth caused Deanna’s heart to sink. What would Dr. Allen say?

  First off, she’d laugh. Deanna could take the embarrassment because she had her own data to back up her claims, but to have Maxim go through that? She couldn’t do that to him. He’d been so kind and caring, trusting her and welcoming her into his life. She remembered the look on his face when she couldn’t answer his question about being queen. He wanted me by his side. Her heart warmed.

  Rita groaned. “Really? Isn’t truth a little overrated? So what that you didn’t marry someone who checked off all the boxes. You married someone who wasn’t perfect—”

  “But was perfect for you,” Grace finished with her characteristic romantic grin. “Besides, you had a little growing to do yourself. And now that you have, you’re even more perfect for each other.”

>   If Maxim’s family issues were nonexistent, Deanna might be persuaded by that argument. “After what Maxim’s family has had to deal with? The lies? I don’t want to be another person who doesn’t tell him the truth.”

  Rita looked at Grace, who shrugged. “They did both score very highly in the integrity category.”

  Rita rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Deanna…” She frowned and blew out air through her lips. “I’m sorry about deceiving you.”

  Deanna shook her head and wiped at the fresh tears. “Do you realize what you’ve done to the integrity of this company? It calls everything we’ve built to be questioned. I have to tell everyone now. It’s the only way.”

  She snatched her coat and purse. She’d tell Maxim to first; to his face. He deserved that.

  Chapter 23

  “Her firm lied to us, Maxim. She lied to your face!”

  Maxim stared at the information he’d received from Rita, along with the short apology. They had mixed up the results, and he wasn’t really supposed to be matched with Deanna. Maxim’s insides felt like they were being sucked out through his back. Emptiness rushed in, filling every void the loss of Deanna was creating.

  His wife.

  The woman he still wanted to be married to, despite her misgivings. Despite his family. Despite the world.

  “Maxim?” came the lawyer’s voice over the phone.

  “I’m here.” His voice cracked.

  “What do you want me to do? There’s a clause in the prenup we can invoke. She will get nothing.”

  Maxim squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. Now his lawyer wanted him to divorce Deanna. Why did it feel like everyone wanted him out of this marriage except him? Even Deanna couldn’t look him in the eye.

  That hurt the most. She didn’t respect him enough to give him a straight answer. All he wanted was the truth, and she’d been evasive. Being shifty was one of her foundational characteristics. How could he have been fooled?

  Her first husband nearly killed her. Of course she’d be guarded and even deceptive. She was a survivor. Those types of people thought only of themselves.