Mister Billions: A Small Town Enemies-to-Lovers Fake Marriage Billionaire Romance (Bad Boys in Love Book 1)

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  Empathy fills my friend's expression. "Been there. I know it sucks, hun."

  Ironic that, not too long ago, I was the one helping her mend her broken heart. Now, it's my turn.

  Iris hesitates to ask. "Do you...do you love him?"

  Dropping my head, I nod. I can't look her in the face when I answer. Because she warned me. She told me I'd end up crushed under a wall of hurt if I wasn't careful letting Cannon Kingston around my heart.

  I didn't listen.

  Look at me now.

  Iris taps me on the nose, pulling me from my thoughts. "Hey," she whispers.

  When I look up at her face, there's no judgment there. Only kindness, only compassion.

  "Okay, the first step is admitting it. You love him. Now, what are you going to do about it?"

  My eyelashes flutter, teardrops weighing them down. I answer honestly. "I'm gonna suck it up. I'm gonna get over it. Like I've had to get over everything I've lost all my life."

  Yes, I love him. I love him so much that I don't know if I'll ever make it to the other side of this pain.

  But love isn't enough. Because I've always been at this man's mercy.

  When he demanded that I marry him to avoid eviction.

  When I walked up to moving vans outside my boutique, knowing that only he had the power to reverse their orders.

  When he disrespected my father and made me feel three inches tall.

  We've never been on equal footing and a relationship built on a lopsided foundation is bound to crack and crumble.

  I lie on the couch barely able to move a limb. Every part of me wants to pick up the phone and call Cannon and ask if he still loves me because I'm definitely in love with him.

  My good sense stops me. Barely.

  Cannon and I come from very different worlds. We'd never work out and there's no point in continuing to delude ourselves and the people around us.

  Iris squeezes my shoulder, a show of solidarity. "You know I've got your back, right? No matter what you decide to do?"

  I bob my head against the couch cushions.

  "Good." She smiles.

  She leans down and pops a kiss against my forehead before heading off to put her own meal into the microwave.

  51

  Cannon

  I promised myself I wouldn't call Alexia. That I wouldn't show up at her house, pound down her door and force her to work things out with me. That I'd just let her be.

  Because she made her decision. Being afraid is more convenient to her than giving me the chance to fix the mess that I made.

  But as the days wear on, I'm devolving into a state of angst that's more than a little alarming.

  I can't eat. I can't sleep. I think of her every minute of every fucking day.

  So, here I am at the Frosty Pitcher on Saturday night, tucked into that same booth at the back, hoping to get a glimpse of her.

  This is pathetic.

  Music pounds in my brain. The mass of bodies on the dancefloor blurs my vision. I'm three whiskeys deep when the front door opens. Iris and Jessa step inside, dragging a reluctant-looking Alexia along with them. I clench my whiskey glass to ground myself as I watch her shuffle across the room. When the girls approach the bar, Penny slides them a round of drinks.

  Alexia's friends spend the night trying to perk her up. But Stormy sits there looking glum, a shadow of the spunky, effervescent woman I love. I think I'd feel better if I saw her dancing, if I saw her on a tabletop, grinning and moving and commanding the attention of the room. At least then I'd know that letting her go made her happy. But instead, she looks broken tonight and it's killing me to know that that's my fault.

  Long moments pass until I just can't stand it anymore. My feet are far from steady as I lift out of my seat and move through the crowd in her direction. I need to talk to her. I've had too much to drink and I'm thirty seconds away from making an ass of myself. Not that I care.

  ...Until she turns in my direction.

  As if she can sense me, she looks up and spots me coming across the bustling room.

  We stare at each other.

  I take in every inch of her beautiful face. Her watery babydoll eyes are hollow blue puddles. Her cherry red lips tremble with restrained words. She rises from her barstool.

  She’s about to come to me. Meet me halfway. At least that's what I'm hoping. But she grabs her purse and turns on her heel.

  I stand there staring at the back of her head as she hustles out the door.

  Fuck.

  Iris is on the periphery, observing the whole interaction. Her stare meets mine. But instead of the distrustful gaze she usually reserves for me, I see compassion there. I must be in worse shape than I thought if Stormy's best friend is offering me pity instead of kicking my ass like she once threatened to.

  Lugging my damaged pride, I head back to my table in the corner. I've never been this torn up over a woman. I've never found myself pining over someone who didn't want me back. I've never chased. I've never begged. I don't recognize the pathetic thing I've become.

  But then again, I've never been in love. With a woman like Alexia Robson.

  Grit and Grace.

  A woman with a heart of gold and a spine of steel.

  I take another sip of my whiskey, determined to wrangle the ailing beast in my chest and drown it in a sea of booze. A shadow stretches across my table and I look up to find Iris standing there, giving me that same pitying look.

  "You mind if I sit?" She motions her cocktail glass to the empty leather bench beside me.

  I give her a fleeting glance and bob my head in confirmation.

  She slides into the seat. "Look—I'm gonna cut right to the point. I've had a not so favorable opinion of you all these years..."

  My face snaps over to her. I narrow my eyes.

  She continues. "And when you came back to town and cornered Lexi with your marriage proposal, I definitely wasn't a fan of the idea." She takes a breath. "But I've watched you two together. I've seen what you two have done for each other, what you've done for the town of Crescent Harbor...You're good together."

  I shake my head at the ice cubes in my tumbler. "She doesn't want to be with me. That's her decision."

  Iris sighs. "Lexi comes across as this tough badass—and she is—but she's also afraid."

  "What the hell is she so afraid of?" I quip. "I've given that woman everything. I've opened myself up to her. I've included her in my family."

  "And you also threatened her livelihood, coerced her into marrying you, treated her dad like crap—"

  "That last one was an accident!" I vigorously defend the shards of honor I have left.

  Iris speaks compassionately but steadily. "That's not the point, Cannon. You've always used your stacks of money as this pedestal you stand on top of, making yourself bigger than everybody else, getting the whole world to bend to your will. Alexia thinks she doesn't measure up. She thinks you look down on people like her, like us." She takes a breath. "If you love her—which I believe that you do—if you want her, it's time for you to get down from your high horse and show her she's your queen."

  With that, Iris gracefully rises from the table and melts into the dancing crowd.

  52

  Cannon

  This morning, I got to my office before the crack of dawn. I kept working through lunch. Didn't leave my desk until long after dark.

  Had to keep myself busy somehow.

  For the past thirty-six minutes, I've been sitting here in my driveway. Looking up at my mansion through the wet swish-swish of my windshield wipers. I can't bring myself to go inside.

  That woman ruined this house for me.

  My fucking sheets smell like grapefruit juice. Her coffee rings stain the expensive wood tables in the living room. Her laughter echoes in the long, empty hallways. Her fingerprints smudge every inch of the furniture, every inch of my heart.

  She turned my house into a mess…

  She also made it into a home.

  Sh
e took it from being an expensive pile of glass and bricks and she filled it with color and joy and laughter. And that's the hardest part to admit now that she's gone.

  Fuck, I miss that girl. I want to forget her. I want to hate her.

  But I know it's not that simple. I know these feelings aren't disposable. I can't throw them away. Although, for some reason, she seems to think I can.

  This is love, dammit. There's no 'off' button, no dimmer switch. Unless Lexi discovered one and she's hoarding that information for herself. Maybe that explains why it was so easy for her to walk away.

  Iris’s words of advice replay in my head. But stubbornly, I try to push them down. I won’t chase Alexia down. I won’t grovel. I’m holding onto my damn pride…even though I’d rather be holding my wife instead.

  My phone rings in my cupholder. Lethargically, I swipe it into my hand. It's my lawyer.

  "Frank, what's going on?" My head drops against the back of my seat like a cement block.

  There's a hint of hesitation in his voice. "I got your message. The one requesting divorce papers? You're ready to end your marriage?"

  I nod into the darkness. "How long till you can get those to me?" Time to rip off the damn bandage. Alexia has decided that she's done with this. No point in dragging it on.

  The lawyer clears his throat awkwardly. "I'm emailing them to you now."

  That announcement is another kick to the gut. It brings me one step closer to severing ties with the only woman I've ever loved.

  His tone switches slightly, subtly becoming more upbeat as if he’s trying to cheer me up. "And I finally have some good news for you."

  That should get me excited but it doesn't. Because unless Frank is about to tell me he's found some obscure constitutional amendment or a new municipal by-law to force Lexi into loving me, I don't really care. Her love is the only thing I really want.

  He keeps yammering. "My office is still working on putting together an appeal in Eli's case but I think we're making headway on getting him home."

  I try to muster up some excitement at the prospect of my brother getting out of jail but I can barely manage two unenthusiastic words. "All right."

  Frank continues. "On another note, I caught wind that there's a competitor organizing a hostile takeover of DataCo."

  I furrow my brows. "Isn't that bad news?"

  For a company like DataCo, a hostile takeover is a nightmare because it means that some third-party is trying to edge out the current board of directors and replace it completely. I don't understand why Frank would be excited about that.

  "The acquirer is eyeing DataCo for mismanagement and I can't blame them. You've been in Crescent Harbor for how long now? And Carl is useless. There isn't exactly anybody steering the ship. Anyway, I was able to intercept the plan and I struck a deal with the other company."

  "What kind of deal?"

  "You want Carl out of DataCo? Well, this is your chance to kick him to the curb. Legally. The potential acquirer has given me written assurances that you'll retain your CEO position in exchange for your support at the shareholder vote. Carl will get the boot and you can replace him with someone who has half a brain. I'll need you back in New York to finalize the paperwork."

  I respond with a drawn out silence. I know this is supposed to be good news but I just can't bring myself to give a fuck.

  "Cannon, this is what you wanted, what you've been trying to accomplish for months." The lawyer's disappointment at my lackluster response is evident.

  Can I just up and leave? I'm married. I have a wife here in Crescent Harbor.

  A wife who doesn't want me.

  Fuck it.

  I'm a miserable shit. I can't be with the woman I love. I might as well go back to New York and watch Carl suffer to keep myself entertained.

  I start my engine and cut a u-turn clear across my manicured lawn.

  "Get the documents ready, Frank. I'm on my way back to New York. I'll see you in the morning."

  53

  Lexi

  It's hours after closing time. I'm perched on a stool behind the counter, distractedly tightening a loose button on a delicate satin slip dress I received in stock today.

  No point in going home. As exhausted as I am, I haven't slept in days, anyway.

  I set down the dress and swipe the screen of my phone to check the time. It's getting late.

  As hard as I try, I can't stop myself from opening my photo gallery. I find myself scrolling through pictures of Cannon and me.

  There we are. A goofy selfie from the night of our Pride and Prejudice movie date. A blurry image of us making funny faces with Callie when we babysat her. A picture of us slow dancing at our wedding reception. Jessa snapped that one. That's the one that gets me every time. Because the way we're looking at each other in that photo, no one would ever guess it was fake.

  Maybe it never was.

  God, did I make a mistake turning him down? Will I spend the rest of my life regretting that I walked away from him?

  I hate every second I spend moping. I don't have the time to sit around feeling sorry for myself. I have other things in my life to deal with.

  I'm keeping my calendar packed to distract myself. I signed the boutique up for a bridal show in Chicago. A newspaper from a nearby town is coming to interview me in a few days. I'm actively trying to mend my relationship with my parents. They're visiting Jessa and me in a few days and I'm already bracing myself for the shitshow that might turn into.

  I don't have the time to sit around being love sick. But I don't have the energy to be strong.

  There's a knock at the door. I look up and my belly flips.

  It's Diana standing there, lit up by the bulbs above the entrance.

  Shit. I should have contacted her. After treating me with so much kindness, she deserved that much. I just didn't know what to say. Avoiding the conversation was a coward move, but it seemed easier than looking her in the eyes after what her son and I have done.

  Gingerly, I rise from my seat. My gait is shaky as I move toward the door.

  She looks hesitant too when I pull the door open.

  "Hi..." She clasps her hands in front of her.

  I wrap my arms around my middle to hold myself together. "Hi..."

  She angles her head. "Do you have a minute to talk, dear?" She steals a glance over my shoulder.

  Stepping out of the way, I sweep an arm through the air, welcoming her inside. "Sure."

  She sets her purse on the counter. She looks so sad. I hate how much I've disappointed her. "How are you doing?" I ask as I go back and slouch against the cash register.

  "I'm fine," she says softly. She sets a hand on mine and looks me in the eye. "How are you?"

  I could tell her I'm doing great but I've already told her enough lies. I decide to be honest instead. "I'm trying not to fall apart." I already feel the tears. They're getting ready to come down my cheeks.

  Her gaze drops to the gown I'm mending as if she can't stand to maintain eye contact. She runs a finger along the beading.

  "I sent your wedding gown off to be professionally cleaned," I tell her. "I haven't gotten it back yet but I'll let you know as soon as I do...It's the least I can do with everything that's happened."

  The woman's eyes bounce to mine. "It's your dress, Alexia."

  Ruefully, I shake my head. "I can't accept it, Diana. After the way things turned out...Maybe Jude or Walker will get married. They'll have a lovely bride and she'll be amazing and you'll get your wish to have a real daughter-in-law." Not a fraud like me.

  It's not fair that I deprive her of the chance to gift the wedding dress to someone who deserves it more than I ever did.

  Diana's shoulders heave when she exhales. She pins me with a no-nonesense look. I've never seen this side of her. "I won't beat around the bushes anymore, okay?" My spine straightens. "I wasn't born yesterday, Alexia.”

  “Wh-what do you mean?” My insides blister with guilt. Her crystal-blue stare feels like a spotl
ight on my ugly sins.

  “It was awfully convenient that Cannon suddenly had a fiancée the minute his father announced he was selling the realty company. Especially since he’d dated Margot for years and never considered marriage.”

  My eyes widen. She knew? All along?

  She drops her head and shakes it. “I know how my son is when he wants something. He pulls out all the stops. I’d never put a fake relationship past him. But I'm a sucker for a good love story. And the second Cannon walked you through my front door, I knew I was looking at a great love story. You couldn't see it, he couldn't see it, but I could. The way he looked at you. The way you blushed when he put an arm around your shoulder." She smiles. "And as time wore on, Cannon softened. My hard, stubborn, brutish boy softened for you, Alexia. Yes, he's a successful businessman, a powerful corporate tycoon. But your love made him into a man."

  My tears are falling now and no amount of tissues can hold them back.

  Diana grips my hand. "He's so much like his father. Lucas was the same way—hard, arrogant, ruthless—but our love was instant. We fell for each other in a heartbeat. I didn't want to deny Cannon that kind of love and I knew you'd be the woman to give it to him." She squeezes my fingers. "You are that love for him, Alexia. That in-a-heartbeat kind of love."

  I'm an emotional wreck right now. After Cannon and I made a mockery of the institution of marriage and betrayed his family's trust, how can his mother still believe in us?

  "I feel so shitty about what we did, Diana. Mr. Kingston only gave Cannon the business on the promise that he and I would have a future together. We broke that promise. We shattered it to bits. That feels wrong."

  "Forget about the business. Forget about who'll be mad for what. If you love my son as much as he obviously loves you, it would be wrong to let this marriage go without a fight."