"The company that sold Iris those crappy sex toys and vanished into thin air when it came time for the refund."
I yank the business statement off the corkboard. "No fucking way..." I mutter.
The woman from the lingerie store has bought most of the sex toy inventory off of our hands but we still have a few pieces lingering around.
Lexi stands there in shock. "That bastard." Her features tell me she's thirsty for blood.
I turn to my bride. "How do you feel about a quick trip to the Big Apple?"
She grins deviously. "Hell yes. Sounds like a honeymoon to me."
57
Lexi
Cannon breezes past the reception desk, tugging me along, fingers interlocked with mine. The gloomy-faced people crowding the depressing waiting room issue mumbled protests as we cut ahead of them.
“E-excuse me, sir!” The mousy woman at the front desk says with her fingers on her keyboard. “Excuse me! You can’t go in there!”
Following after my lunatic husband, I give the woman a sheepish stare and mouth, “Sorry…”
...I’m not sorry.
Carl and Margot are shitty human beings. They’ve earned the steaming hot shitshow their lives are about to descend into. I’m just here for the entertainment.
We just left a meeting at Frank’s office. Cannon signed the paperwork approving of the takeover that officially kicked Carl off of DataCo’s board of directors. Now, it’s time for the fun part…
My hubby makes his way down the brightly-lit hallway, sticking his head into each office we pass. I don’t know how Frank dug up this information about Carl’s bankruptcy trustee and honestly, I’m a little scared to ask. But from what I’ve seen so far, this lawyer isn’t afraid to do dirty work and he’s worth every penny my husband pays him.
The receptionist hurry-waddles behind us, panic in her polite tone as she repeatedly asks us to leave.
“Knock, knock.” Cannon casually strolls into the conference room where he spots a weary-faced, curly-headed man and a waif-thin woman with over-blonde hair sitting across from a stuffy, professional-looking dude.
The woman gasps like she’s been holding her breath for the past six months.
Margot…
“Baby! I knew you’d come back for me! I knew you didn’t give up on me!” She throws herself at him so fast that the blueberry muffin she’s holding falls to the floor.
Cannon deftly avoids her. He loops an arm around my waist and ushers me into the room.
Professional-Looking Guy adjusts his glasses and rises to his feet. “Sir, ma’am—you can’t be in here. This is a private meeting.” He approaches cautiously with a hand out.
Cannon gives the man a fleeting look. “We’ll only be a minute.”
Carl throws a worn-down glance over his shoulder. “Man—you shouldn’t have wasted your time coming here. I have nothing left for you to take from me.” The guy looks sickly and dehydrated. It’s obvious he doesn’t know where his next meal is coming from so his plate is stacked high with complimentary pastries.
“You’re still breathing so I guess that’s up for me to decide.” My husband smiles like the Joker.
I love it when he’s all vindictive and shit.
“We didn’t come to take anything,” I say graciously. “In fact, we come bearing gifts.” I reverently set down my brown paper bag on the conference table.
This whole time, Margot’s eyes are peeled to me. She glares and turns up her nose. “Who the hell is this bitch, Cannon? Do not tell me you’re seeing someone else when you and I have been working on our relationship.”
I’m surprised he even dignifies her with a response. “Alexia is my wife. And I’d suggest you refrain from disrespecting her again unless you want to find yourself hanging from a window by your hair extensions.” He cups a hand around his mouth and lowers his voice. “My honey’s got a bit of a temper. And judging by the wretched state of your life, I’m sure you know I have a temper, too.”
I narrow my eyes for effect.
Margot meekly blinks away from my threatening glare and finds herself a seat.
Cannon drums his fingertips on the tabletop. “Now, moving on to the items on today’s agenda.” He gallantly pulls out a chair for me before dropping into the empty seat by my side. “I have become aware that Mr. Cohen is insolvent and that’s a bit of a problem because it turns out that he owes my wife quite a sum of money.”
The trustee looks to Carl for an explanation, eyes guarded.
My hubby continues. “The items in the bag originated from one of Mr. Cohen’s businesses.” With his chin, he gestures at the paper bag.
The trustee doesn’t take his eyes off of Cannon as he reaches into the bag. When he pulls out the muddy, broken butt plug, the man jumps back like he just touched a rattlesnake.
“Your return policy is shit, by the way. You really need to work on that…unless you want consumer protection knocking down your door, too.” Cannon breaks a piece off of a croissant and pops it into his mouth, all veiled threats and nonchalance. He feeds me a bite of his pastry.
Mmm…delicious. Tastes like victory.
Carl mumbles. “You always were such an asshole.” He’s red and vibrating with rage.
Cannon finishes off the croissant and hands off the Vibes of Joy invoice to the trustee. “So make sure my wife gets added to the list of creditors, m’kay?” He stands.
“That’s not how this works,” the trustee protests. “I can’t just go adding creditors without following the proper proceed—”
Cannon gives him an exasperated look. “Can we just pretend it is? I’m going for dramatic effect here and you’re cramping my style. Sheesh!”
He offers me his hand and we rise to walk out.
But Carl’s resentment seemingly reaches a boiling point because out of nowhere he shrieks like a banshee and lunges for us from behind. Startled, I miss a step and stub a toe on a table leg as I duck out of the way.
In an instant, Cannon spins around protectively and his fist slams through his ex-business partner’s jaw.
Now, Carl is lying on the floor. Right next to Margot’s blueberry muffin.
He holds his nose and groans. My man’s face turns a scary shade of red as he looms above the body curled up on the office carpet.
The trustee guy is already standing there with the conference room phone in his hand. “All right. That’s it. I’m calling security.” He eyes his terrified receptionist standing by the door.
With the rage he’s in, I doubt that Cannon heard him. He shakes out his swollen fingers. “For the record, I wasn’t willing to face jail for Margot. But for Alexia Kingston, I would gladly put your ass six feet under and eat my cardboard-flavored prison dinner with a smile every day for the rest of my wretched life. Remember that if you ever have the misguided idea of posing a threat to her ever again.”
My heart flutters. That man’s brand of romance really does it for me.
I bend and swipe the fallen invoice from the floor. “Oh here, babe.” I hand it to Cannon. “Shit, we got a little blood on it.”
He takes it and presses a hard kiss to the side of my face. “Don’t worry. It’ll still hold up in court. If it gets to that.” Carl squints up at us, still holding his bleeding nose in place. “But it won’t get to that. Right, Carl?”
He just groans and rolls over. Like he’s completely given up on life.
My groom reaches out a hand and helps me cross over the heap of skin and bones lying on the floor. We move toward the door.
I throw a cursory glance at Cannon’s pouting ex-girlfriend and motion my chin at Carl. “Come get your life, sweetheart.”
I slip my hand into the crook of his arm as we stroll past the waiting room, toward the elevator. “Carl was right. You’re such an asshole.”
Cannon chuckles. “Admit that was kind of satisfying.”
“It was.”
We share a grin.
He brands me with a hard kiss as we get onto the elev
ator. He slings an arm around my neck. “Now let’s go see the Statute of Liberty or some shit, shall we, Mrs. Kingston?”
I giggle. “Of course, Mr. Kingston. I’d go anywhere with you.”
Epilogue
Cannon
18 months later…
Think you can clear your schedule for the afternoon, Mr. CEO?”
I glance up and find my wife standing in the doorway, balloons in one hand, a gift bag in the other and our adorable baby girl strapped to her chest.
At the mere sight of them, the Alpha Protector switch flips on in my brain. I bolt up from the conference room table where my father-in-law and I have been huddled over my computer screen for the past hour, working through some final issues with his business plan.
Then I’m over at the door, kissing Baby Diana’s soft bald head before taking my wife’s sexy mouth in a quick, juicy kiss. “What’s with the balloons, Stormy?” I nod my chin at her haul.
She lifts a brow and eyes me with annoyance. “Your grandfather’s birthday party. You didn’t forget, did you?”
My flinching expression answers her question indirectly.
“Cannon…” Amusement dances in her tone.
I pull my watch from my pocket and check the time. Crap.
“I didn’t forget. I promise. I just didn’t realize it was so late. The morning just flew by.”
I feel like an ass. My wife took the day off from her bustling bridal shop to attend my grandfather’s birthday celebration and I got so caught up in my own work that I almost missed the whole party.
She shakes her head. “My husband is hopeless. A hopeless workaholic,” she tells her father as he gathers up his paperwork and approaches us.
“He’s a workaholic for a good cause,” Mr. Robson says, a contented grin lighting up his face.
My wife bobs her head. “Y’know what? You’re right, Daddy.”
Kingston and Kingston Consulting is a non-profit Lexi talked me into starting and we launched it just over a year ago. My brilliant wife had been nagging me to go into consulting since she says I always have smart-ass comments about the inefficiencies of Crescent Harbor’s business community.
We do workshops on bookkeeping, marketing, that kind of stuff. And once a month, we have a business clinic where I sit down one-on-one with a shop owner to review challenges they’re facing in their operations and help them make plans moving forward. We also have a co-working space on the second floor of the Kingston Realties building where freelancers can rent space to work.
Our initiatives seem to be successful because I’m glad to report that we were able to come up with strategies to keep all of our tenants profiting (and paying their rent) throughout the winter months this year.
The ice cream shop did really well with their juice bar in the off-season and they even started selling whipped coffee in a variety of flavors to keep the town warm in the cold months. Iris’s new venture is doing better than anyone could have predicted. The woman from the lingerie shop had to replace the sex toy vending machine last week because the machine got so popular, it fritzed out on her.
As for DataCo, I made the decision to step down as CEO. The business is still thriving and yielding significant returns for our investors but my heart wasn’t into it anymore. I kept a seat on the board of directors and I’ve remained the company’s majority shareholder but we hired a whole new management team. I don’t see the need to be involved in the firm’s day-to-day activities.
My multi-billion-dollar empire is firmly established. Now, I want to focus on helping the people of Crescent Harbor build their own mini-empires instead.
Shit—I’m a philanthropist. Who would’ve thunk it?
Just further evidence of Alexia’s crazy-making influence in my life. I couldn’t be surrounded by this gorgeous human being on a daily basis and not become a better person.
With his papers tucked under his arm, Mr. Robson meets us at the door. “Sorry to cut our meeting short,” I tell him. “We can finish up on the phone if you don’t have the time to come back here later this week.”
The man smiles and claps me on the shoulder. “I’ll try to pencil you into my calendar. But you know how busy things get—now that I’m a business owner and all.” We share a chuckle.
Lexi’s parents are giving the appliance repair business another shot. This time, they’re doing it responsibly with a plan in place. I’m helping out in every way I can.
He turns his attention to his daughter and she apologizes for interrupting our strategy session. The man drops a kiss onto his grandkid’s forehead. “Don’t worry about it, baby girl. I’m on my way to an AA meeting anyway. Don’t want to be late.”
“So proud of you, Dad.” Alexia gives him a hug and Diana’s gurgling face pops up between them.
I shake hands with my father-in-law. “We’ll be in touch, Dougla—I mean, Mr. Robson.” I catch myself right before I call him by his first name.
I tried it once. It didn’t go too well.
I think the whole ‘Mr. Robson’ thing is his way of punishing me for our disastrous first meeting. I deserve it.
He laughs to himself as he strolls out of the room. “You’re a good man, Cannon Kingston,” he mutters to himself.
Once my little family is alone, I sling an arm around Alexia’s hip and pull her in for a kiss. A deep, hard one.
When she moves away, she’s looking a little dazed. “Gramps’s birthday party. Remember?”
Oh, right.
I take a second to power down my laptop. She’s hovering impatiently by the door. “Chop, chop, mister. Your brothers just texted me. They’re already there with your parents. Apparently, Callie learned to play the Happy Birthday song on her toy piano and if we don’t get there soon, we’ll miss the whole thing.” She lays a hand on her chest. “And Cannon?” I look at her. “Jude said that your grandfather asked for you today. He actually asked for you.”
Hope flutters in my chest. Fuck. This day just keeps getting better.
I hurriedly grab my phone and keys then approach my wife with outstretched arms. “Let me give you a hand.”
I ease Diana off of her mother’s chest and she looks up at me with familiar babydoll eyes and a toothy smile. She’s such a good baby.
My lips touch my child’s head again. The little thing gurgles and gets drool all over my three hundred dollar shirt. I laugh.
Because...
Because this is happiness. This is love. This is the whole point of life, of having billions of dollars in the bank. Finally, I have a purpose. I have it all.
My employees are hard at work on their computers when my family walks by. Sally takes a moment to smile and acknowledge us with a chin tip. Yup, my employees fucking love me.
Work-life balance, folks.
Lexi’s shirt is half-untucked. As I follow after her, I catch a glimpse of frilly pink lace peeking up from the waistband of her pants.
“Mmm…You’re wearing that sexy see-through g-string again?” I mumble by her ear as I tuck her shirt back into place. Of course, I take the opportunity to discreetly trace my hand down her sexy butt and squeeze.
She casually throws me a glance over her shoulder.
Her eyes hooded. Her mouth curled up at one corner. Oh, I know that look...We're about to fuck up some bedsheets tonight.
Her next words confirm my assumptions. “Feelin’ cute…Might give you some ass later.” She winks over her back.
My cock goes to war against my zipper.
We stand at the elevator, face-to-face, grinning at each other like two infatuated teenagers on their first date.
I cup her cheek and slide my fingers into her hair. She sighs. “Gosh, you’re everything, Cannon Kingston.”
My brow rises up my forehead. “Really? I seem to recall you saying I’m not as impressive as I think I am…”
She looks up at me with dreamy eyes. “Don’t hold it against me. That was back when I was a fool.”
I step closer to her and inhale the
scent of grapefruit. “So, are you impressed?”
“More than impressed. I’m in love. With you, Mr. Billions. I love you.”
“Good, ‘cause I love you back.” I try to rub my erection against her. No easy feat with a kicking baby clutched to my chest. “You’d better figure out what you’re gonna do with all this, Mrs. Billions.” I motion up and down at my body.
“Oh, I have some ideas.” She grins. “Enough ideas to last the rest of our lives.”
We kiss.
And then…we live the happiest ever-after.
Thank you so much for reading MISTER BILLIONS! I hope you love Cannon as much as I do!
The Kingston boys aren’t done melting your panties yet…The next books in the Bad Boys in Love Series are up for pre-order. Grab them today!
Pre-order Mister Baller
Pre-order Mister Baby Daddy
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Dirty Cameos
If you’ve read any of my older books, you may have noticed a few familiar faces making an appearance in Mister Billions. If you’re new to my universe, here’s a little guide to help you figure out who’s who!
The Dirty Suburbs Series is a sexy rom-com series set in Reyfield which is a neighboring town to Crescent Harbor.
Faith Monroe-Masters - Dirty Player
Lily Monroe-Wilkinson - Dirty Farmer
Grace Monroe-Trotten - Dirty Forever
Paul Price - Dirty Player
Mister Billions: A Small Town Enemies-to-Lovers Fake Marriage Billionaire Romance (Bad Boys in Love Book 1) Page 25
