Stingray Billionaire: The Complete Series (An Alpha Billionaire Romance)

by Alexa Davis

  "Yeah, I just saw the news," I said as I ran a hand through my hair and tried to think about what to do next. "How long has Beck been missing?"

  "No idea," she replied. "I lost track of him around midnight last night when I had to come back to the club and deal with a couple of wise guys who thought they were going to pull a heist."

  "What the fuck?" I shouted into the phone.

  "Oh please, they were flat out amateurs who had no clue what they were doing," she said. "I taught them a lesson that they won't soon forget and will spread out into the idiot community. There will be no more heists."

  "Tell me you did not attract police attention," I demanded.

  "Nope, no cops, just my own form of justice applied where needed," she said.

  "Who was it?"

  "North side boys who got a little too big for their damn britches," she replied.

  "You sure the lesson was learned?"

  "Abso-fuckin-lutely, boss," she said and I could hear her smiling on the other end. I knew that if Riza taught a lesson in justice, then there would be no further incidents from that crew. She'd learned her methods while in Iraq with the Marines. That was some hardcore shit.

  "Now what are we going to do about Beck?" I asked.

  "I'm gonna head over to the Marina and see if I can locate him with the GPS," she said. "I'll have him back in the club by lunchtime."

  "I'd rather have him in rehab," I muttered.

  "Can't do it unless he wants it, boss," she said. "Any other way and it won't stick."

  "I know, I know," I said. "Just find him, Ri. I don't like having him on the loose while the cops are out there looking to pin Lydia's murder on someone. He's too easy a target for them."

  "Gotcha, boss, I'm on it," she said and then disconnected.

  I sat on the couch staring at my phone until I decided that the part of me that wanted to know what had happened last night was stronger than the part that was pissed. I pulled up Brooke's number and pushed the dial button.

  "Hi, Dax," she said when she answered the phone.

  "Good morning, Brooke," I said. "How are you this morning?"

  "Embarrassed. Ashamed. Mortified," she said. "You name it – I probably feel it."

  "Okay, so I'll bite," I said preparing to jump in. "What the hell happened last night?"

  "Oh man, that's a loaded question," she sighed.

  "Would you care to answer it or should I just write this off as the most extreme way a woman has said no to me ever?" I asked. I could feel the irritation rising in my chest, but I knew better than to go gangster on Brooke.

  "I'm not sure I can ever apologize enough or sufficiently explain what happened last night," she said hesitantly.

  "Try," I said. "I'll listen, and I won't lose my cool. I promise."

  "It's pretty complicated. Can we meet for a drink later? It'll be easier to explain in person," she said.

  "Only if you swear that it's not going to end the same way it did last night," I said.

  "I do solemnly swear," she said and I could hear the trace of a giggle in her voice. "I will not run off like Cinderella when the clock struck midnight."

  "You didn't even leave me a shoe," I said poking a little fun at her.

  "Well, it's the digital age, you've got my phone number," she laughed. "A shoe seemed kind of old fashioned and needlessly wasteful."

  I burst out laughing and said, "Very well, then we'll meet later."

  "How about we meet at Dooley's around seven?" she suggested.

  "That should work," I replied. "I'll see you then."

  "I'll look forward to it," she said before disconnecting.

  I sat staring at my phone wondering how one woman could create so much inner turmoil and desire. I didn't want to answer that question so I turned my attention to how I was going to deal with the inventory problem at the club.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Brooke

  "Good morning, Alma," I said as I walked through the door. "How are you this fine morning?"

  "Good morning, Miss Raines," Alma said peering at me from behind her round lenses. "I'm well, and today's weather forecast appears to support your assessment of what type of morning it is."

  "Very well, thank you for that information, Alma," I smiled. "Are Jordie and Roger in yet?"

  "The gentlemen are in the conference room and have been there all night, I believe," she said in a voice that was very obviously disapproving.

  "Are they doing something they shouldn't be doing?" I asked.

  "Miss Raines, I was hired to be a secretary and a receptionist for this firm," she replied. Her lips were set in a grim line across the lower half of her face as she murmured, "I was not hired to mind grown up children who still need a mother."

  "I see," I nodded. "I'm sorry that you've been subjected to the boys' bad behavior, Alma. I'll go see what I can do to get them to change their ways and act a little more like adults."

  She nodded as she turned back to the letter she had been typing when I entered and I listened as her fingers flew across the keyboard transforming our words into something presentable. I didn't want to lose Alma over a misunderstanding, so I walked straight to the conference room where I found a scene that caused me to drop my bags and stand staring at the mess.

  "What in the hell have you two done?" I asked as I looked at the walls of the conference room now papered in post-it notes. It looked like a windstorm had set down in a paper factory and left a wild random flurry of multi-colored snow covering every square inch of the room.

  "We've been trying to hash out a way to make the finances work until you land Malone," Roger said in a tired voice. Jordie nodded in agreement as he rested his chin on his hand and almost nodded off. "We got worried that we were going to lose it all if we didn't come up with a backup plan, but I think we figure it out."

  "What in the hell did you two do in here?" I repeated. "And what did you take in order to stay up all night and do this?"

  "What are you talking about Brooke?" Jordie asked.

  "You know full well what I'm talking about," I said in a disapproving voice. "You two bought something to help you push through the night and work. I know it, you know it, we all know it. So cut the crap and just admit it."

  "Fine, whatever, we took some uppers we bought from one of the corner boys," Roger said throwing up his hands like a kid who'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "What the hell? We've all done it, Brooke. I don't know why you're getting all high and mighty on us."

  "Maybe because when I came in this morning our receptionist said she had been hired as a professional office worker, not a babysitter for adult children," I said. "But then maybe it's also because you guys know better! We're a law firm not a frat house, dammit!"

  "Sorry, Brooke," Jordie yawned. "We were just trying to make it all work."

  "I know you guys mean well, but you're going to sink us if you don't get your shit together and get out there and help me drum up some clients!" I yelled. "I'm out trying to convince Malone to hire us as his next legal counsel and you guys are in here popping uppers and wallpapering the conference room with post-its!"

  "Sorry, Brooke," Roger echoed Jordie. "We only wanted to help."

  "If you two lunkheads want to help, you need to get your asses over to the courthouse and figure out who doesn't have representation in their bail hearing, and then offer to represent them," I said. "You guys are so much smarter than this. Stop acting like first-year law students and start acting like professionals who know what they're doing!"

  "You guys are both off today," I said. "Clean this mess up and then go home and get some rest. Come back tomorrow and we'll work out a plan for how you can actually help."

  "Okay," Jordie yawned. "We'll clean this up."

  "Jesus, you two," I said shaking my head as I picked up my things and walked into my office where I sunk down in my chair and hoped that tonight's meeting with Dax would offer the solution to our problems.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE />
  Dax

  When I arrived at my office later that morning, I could tell from the moment I set foot in the club that it would be a long day. Kesha caught my attention and said she needed to talk with me as soon as possible. I told her to wait while I dropped my things off and checked the office.

  Upstairs, I found Riza pacing the floor. This was not a good sign.

  "What's up?" I asked as I tried not to let the dread take over.

  "Fucking Beck!" she shouted. "That little bastard is going to fuck us all!"

  "Hey, hey, hey," I said holding up a hand while I walked over and firmly shut the door. It was unlike Riza to get worked up about anything. In fact, she was the person I counted on to always maintain her calm, cool demeanor. Seeing her like this unsettled me. "Chill out and tell me what happened."

  "Your little brother is going to fuck up everything, Dax," she said as she clenched her fists at her sides. "He took the damn boat out and tried to make a drug run from Tijuana to the Marina dock. But he's too fucking stupid to pull shit like that off. He got caught by the Coasties, and now he's in their jail waiting for a hearing."

  "So, he fucked up, that's small potatoes compared to what he could have done," I said secretly relieved to learn that Beck wasn't dead.

  "You really don't get it do you?" she asked searching my face for a sign that I understood what she was talking about. "You don't get that your brother is knowledgeable enough to sink our entire operation by opening his junkie mouth and singing to the Feds, do you?"

  "He's a junkie, who's gonna believe him?" I shrugged.

  "Jesus, you are blind as fuck when it comes to that boy," she spat. "I've got an inside informant over there at the Coast Guard and he said that Beck offered to give them all the information they wanted on his brother's club if they'd trade him a fix."

  "And they took the whacked out ramblings of a junkie as gospel truth?" I asked. "They're stupider than I thought."

  "Dax, stop cutting Beck slack," she said as she put her palms flat on the edge of my desk and looked straight into my eyes. "He's going to ruin all of our hard work and our future. He's in bed with the North side guys and they're using him to try and break you down."

  "So, what do you suggest I do, Riza?" I said as I looked at her. There was fury in my eyes because I had a feeling that I knew what she was going to say but I wanted to hear her say it before I said anything.

  "You know what I say," she shrugged. "When there's a weak link, you cut it loose and save the rest of the chain."

  "You're saying I should off my own brother," I said.

  "I'm just saying that you have to decide what's most important, the organization and its future or the junkie who is going to bring it all crashing down around our heads unless he's stopped," she said as she stood up and put her hands on her hips. "I'm just saying, you're gonna have to make a decision, Dax. Sooner or later, you're gonna have to choose."

  "Fine, when I get to that bridge, I'll cross it," I said in an irritated voice. I was tired of discussing this with her and it was obvious that we weren't going to agree on how to handle the situation. "Riza, for now, we're going to let Beck sit in jail. I'm going to find him a lawyer to be at his bail hearing and then we'll figure out what to do next, okay?"

  "You're so fucked," she said as she turned and stormed out of the room.

  A few minutes later, Kesha appeared at the door asking, "Is now a good time to talk, boss?"

  "Yeah, come on in, K," I said waving her in. "Let's talk about this inventory situation."

  "Boss, it's getting weirder by the day," she said shaking her head. "Yesterday, I found more crates that we hadn't ordered down in the storage area, and when I opened them they were full of product. But it's not our product."

  "How do you know?" I asked. "Are you sure?"

  "Absolutely sure," she said. "Come downstairs and I'll show you."

  I followed Kesha to the basement storage area where we kept the liquor. We had a second storage area where we kept the product, as we called it. Kesha was right, there was something really off about this product. It definitely wasn't ours. The crates were poorly constructed and the product was stored in Ziplock bags, some of which were only half filled. This was a lazy, half-assed job done by hacks, but how had it wound up in our storage area?

  "Kesha, how did this get here?" I asked.

  "Hand to God, I have no idea," she said and I believed her. Kesha ran the tightest product ship I'd ever seen. She was equally picky about the liquor and never once had failed to come up with an accurate count. I trusted her more than anyone except Riza, and she had no reason to lie to me.

  "We have to figure out how the hell this happened," I said. "Let's get the security footage and see who was down here."

  "Way ahead of you, boss," she said. "That's the insane thing, there is no footage showing these crates arriving in the storage area. Someone went in and erased the time between the last delivery and the discovery of the crates. It's like they're setting us up or something."

  "Can you think of anyone who'd want to set us up?" I asked. "I mean, besides the obvious."

  "Not a single person, boss," Kesha said. "Who the hell would do this?"

  "I don't know, but you can bet your sweet ass I'm gonna find out," I said as I turned and headed upstairs. First Lydia, then Beck, and now the shipment. It felt like someone was out to destroy me, but I had no idea who that might be.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Brooke

  I spent the day figuring out how to stretch the money we had in our accounts to cover another month, and then I made calls to all the clients on my books and encouraged them to pay their past due balances. Then, I worked up a plan for Roger and Jordie to execute at the jail starting tomorrow.

  I'd just finished typing up my notes when I looked at the clock and realized I had to be at Dooley's in half an hour. I stood up and looked at myself in the full-length mirror I had installed on the back of my office door after the courtroom wardrobe disaster when I'd tucked the hem of my skirt into the waist band and showed up with my ass hanging out. Fortunately, the court reporter had noticed before I headed in to see the judge. She asked me why I hadn't checked myself in a mirror before I headed to the courtroom and since the only answer I had was that I didn't have one, I'd felt it was a worthwhile business expense to have this one installed.

  I looked pretty good. I'd worn a steel grey, form-fitting blouse with a black pencil skirt and black stilettos. It was professional, but sexy. I was glad I had chosen this since I wouldn't have time to go home and change before I met Dax. I swiped a layer of mascara on my lashes and glossed my lips. I'd been at the office all day, but I looked pretty good all things considered. I ran a hand through my hair and messed it up a little before deciding it was ridiculous and more than a little desperate to try and use sex appeal to lure Dax into hiring me as his lawyer.

  He was interested, that I already knew. Now I just had to find a way to walk the line between personal and professional. It wasn't going to be easy, but I knew I had to do it. The rest of the firm was counting on me.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Dax

  It had taken me all afternoon to balance the various sets of books, and in doing so, I calmed down and thought about Beck and the situation he'd put us in. I knew he didn't know what he was doing. It was the junk talking. I also understood Riza's concern and anger. There was a lot riding on what Beck would or wouldn't say and on how seriously the police would take him. We knew he was a messed up junkie, but they didn't understand the extent to which his manufactured stories were illusions of his drug-addled brain, or at least that's what we wanted them to believe.

  When I looked up at the clock again, I realized I had exactly fifteen minutes before I was scheduled to meet Brooke. There was no time to run home and change, so I took a quick shower in the bathroom I'd built off of my office when I'd renovated the club. At the time, it had been a huge luxury to design and build this room. I'd decided that it would most likely be inval
uable in the future, so I'd listened to my gut and gone ahead with the construction, despite the fact that everyone had told me it was insane to pay for a flame-proof, bullet-proof, impenetrable bathroom when I barely had the money to buy the liquor needed to stock the bar.

  I looked at myself in the mirror as I toweled my hair and decided that shaving was a luxury of time that I couldn't afford. She'd have to like me with my five o'clock shadow. I pulled on a clean set of clothes, a black t-shirt and jeans, and ran a hand through my still damp hair. Not great, but at least I was clean.

  I hopped in the car with five minutes to spare and quickly navigated the streets between the club and Dooley's. I parked around back and walked through the door at precisely six o'clock.

  "Hey, Dax!" Billy called. "Good to see you, man!"

  "Billy, good to see you," I smiled as I walked toward the bar.

  "She's in back," he said nodding toward the private room Dooley's kept available for business deals and clandestine meetings. "You want a drink?"

  "Yeah, give me a bourbon, neat," I said.

  "I'll bring it back in a minute," he called as I walked through the doorway into the poolroom and crossed over to the door that led to the private meeting space. I pulled it open and smiled as I walked in and saw Brooke sitting at a table in the back corner.

  "Mr. Malone," she smiled. "Good of you to join me."

  "Ms. Raines," I grinned. "So kind of you to invite me."

  "It's the least I could do," she said as she gestured to the chairs around the table. "Would you care to have a seat?"

  "Don't mind if I do," I said as I picked the chair closest to her and sat down. Sitting next to Brooke was an instant aphrodisiac, and I could feel myself getting hard as I looked into her blue eyes. Never before had a woman had such a powerful effect on me. Part of me wanted to get up and walk away knowing that if this went much further I'd be in over my head. But my gut told me to stay, and I always listened to my gut.