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

by Alexa Davis

  I watched Brooke out of the corner of my eye. Her braid had come undone on the way out of the courtroom and now her hair brushed her shoulders and framed her face. I wanted to reach out and push it aside so I could see her face, but to do so would have caused trouble for her, so I sat staring out the window and thinking about my next move as I tried to shut out the pull of her body. At one point, she turned and looked over her shoulder, catching my eye. I could see the mixture of concern and need in her bright blue eyes. I nodded and looked away.

  "We're there," Jordie said as we turned the corner onto Harlem and pulled up in front of the club.

  "Thanks for the ride," I said as I patted his shoulder.

  "Dax, you are not to go any further than between home and the club," Brooke reminded me.

  "I know, I know, you don't have to talk to me like I'm a child," I said, resenting her for the fact that I was trapped in a six-block radius.

  "I'm not treating you like a child," she said. "I'm treating you like you're our client, which you are."

  "Whatever," I said. "When do I need to be at your office?"

  "Tomorrow afternoon," she said as she looked down at her phone. "Come around noon and we'll have lunch and talk about how we're going to prove you're innocent."

  "I thought innocent people were assumed to be innocent until proven guilty," I said.

  "Yeah, well, welcome to the real world," she replied. "We need all the proof we can get in order to keep you out of prison."

  "I'll be there," I said as I got out of the car and slammed the door shut. I turned and walked into the club, not looking back as Jordie drove out of sight.

  There was no way in hell I was going to take the fall for whoever had killed Lydia, but first I had to figure out who had done it and why.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  Brooke

  I spent the afternoon at the office looking through the files that Jordie and Roger had compiled on the fly. We tried to trace Lydia's locations before she was kidnapped, and then tried to brainstorm a list of possible reasons why someone would want to kill her.

  What the guys had discovered about Lydia gave us a number of leads. Her bank records showed that she was depositing large amounts of cash every month, and since her death, there had been numerous withdrawals, all for the same amount. We had no idea who else had access to her accounts, since we knew she wasn't married, nor did she have any children. I told Jordie to follow up on this with the bank.

  "Where is Roger?" I asked.

  "He said he had an errand to run and that he'd meet us back here later," Jordie said as he searched for Lydia's employment history and leafed through a large file that Alma had brought him.

  "Find anything else?"

  "It's weird," he said as he tapped the keyboard and then looked back at the screen. "She has a steady employment history up until two years ago, then it looks like she practically dropped off the map. No W2 on record, no taxes filed, nothing. It's like she didn't exist anymore."

  "That's weird," I said. "She was obviously making money, lots of it. Where in the hell was it coming from?"

  "Probably something we need to ask our client," Jordie said as he punched more keys and looked back at the screen and then down at the file. "This is weird, Brooke. Two days before she disappeared, she deposited a huge sum of cash, but she did it over a period of a few hours and at different branches of the same bank."

  "What the hell?"

  "I know, right?" he said. "She had to know that would show up in her banking records. It wasn't like they were separate banks or something."

  "Unless, she wanted it to show up," I said. "Like she was trying to send a message or a signal. Do we have any records of any other accounts at other banks?"

  "I hadn't checked," he said. "I assumed she did all her banking at the same place."

  "Check it out," I said. "I need to get going or I'm going to be late for dinner with my parents."

  "Can't you reschedule it?" Jordie asked.

  "No, it's important," I replied. "I'll come back after I'm done, though. So, leave anything you find on my desk and I'll look at it."

  "Who says I'll be gone?" He grinned.

  "Good point," I laughed. "And, Jordie?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Find Roger, dammit," I said as I walked to my office, grabbed my purse and headed out to catch a cab.

  #

  Thirty minutes later, I got out of the car and walked up the front walk of my parent’s house. The lights were on and I could hear music and my parents’ laughter coming from inside. My mouth watered as I thought about a thick juicy hamburger with a side of my mother's zesty potato salad.

  "Hey, what are you doing? Trying to invite the neighborhood for dinner?" I called as I opened the front door and walked back toward the kitchen where my parents were dancing across the linoleum to the rhythm of Santana.

  "Nah, we were just waiting for the grill to heat up so we could put the burgers on," my father laughed. "I got the sudden urge to dance."

  "Your father has been assigned to watch Dancing with the Stars," my mother explained as he twirled her around again. "It's not enough for him to watch it, he needs to live it!"

  "You could have had a career, Pop," I said as I watched him spin my mother.

  "There's no need to be a smartass," he shot back laughing. "I'm enjoying this!"

  "I'm not even kidding, Pop," I said smiling. "You've got the moves of a regular Gene Kelly!"

  "Come here, kiddo, let me spin you around the dance floor while your mother gets the salad ready," my father said, holding his arms out to me.

  "I'll pass, Pop," I said as I perched on a stool and watched my parents work together to get dinner ready.

  "Then come with me and help me with the burgers," he said as he grabbed the plate piled high with freshly made patties. "Your brother should be here any minute, and I don't want to take a chance that he'll get called in to the house without eating."

  I followed my father out the back door onto the patio he and my brother had built the year before. My parents had the kind of backyard that made you forget that you were in LA and left you feeling like you'd escaped the city for some exotic spa. Teddy and my father had carved out a small space for a hand-built grill in the back of the yard, and we headed toward it.

  "Brooke, we need to talk about something," my father said as he slid the burgers onto the grill and then closed the lid.

  "What's up, Pop?" I said playfully punching him in the shoulder. His face was solemn and serious, though. "What is it?"

  "Brookie, I know you took this Malone case because your firm needs visibility and money, but are you sure you know what you're doing?" he asked.

  "Yes, why do you ask?"

  "One of the city reporters passed information on to me about Dax Malone, and I'm not sure that you know exactly what you're dealing with here," he said quietly.

  "Dad, he's been accused of a murder that he didn't commit," I said. "I'm not sure it gets any simpler than that."

  "But, Brooke, if the source is correct, Malone is a major drug dealer," my father said with a worried look on his face. "There's talk that his lawyer was executed."

  "We've been looking into that, Pop," I said, understanding his concern and wanting to reassure him that I'd be okay. "Jordie and I have found evidence that points to someone other than Dax."

  "Don't be naive, kiddo," he said. "Just because he didn't do it himself doesn't mean he didn't have it done."

  "Pop, look, everyone deserves a proper defense, and I believe Malone when he says he didn't do it," I said. I needed to calm my father's anxiety or he would drive my mother crazy worrying about me. I knew he was right in that it was risky representing Dax, but I also knew that if we didn't do it, the firm would be sunk. "We need this one, Pop. And, since I believe he's innocent, I think we can do a good job defending him."

  "I don't like this," my father said as he lifted the lid on the grill and flipped the burgers. "I don't like it one little bit."

&n
bsp; "Well, you can be my inside informant, how about that?" I said. "You can tell me what you're hearing about Dax, and I'll let you know if you're right."

  "Brooke," my father turned and looked at me as he laid his hand on my head. "Please don't do anything foolish. We can help you out if the firm fails, but we can't do anything if you are killed trying to prove you can make this work."

  "I'll be careful," I said as I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him tightly. I knew he was going to keep this from my mother, and that the secret would cause him a great deal of anxiety. "I promise. I'll be really careful."

  "Teddy's here!" my mother called out the back door. "Are those burgers almost ready?"

  "Coming!" my father and I yelled back in unison, grinning.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Dax

  "Where is Beck?" Riza said as she pushed open the door to my office. "What did you do with him?"

  "Beck is where he needs to be right now," I said. "What are you so riled up about?"

  "You locked him up somewhere?" she asked. I could hear a note of urgency and slight panic in her voice, but I couldn't figure out where it was coming from.

  "Beck is in rehab, Ri," I said as I watched her pace the floor in front of my desk. "It's where he needs to be. He's dangerously close to doing something stupid, and I don't want to have to worry about him while we're fighting this murder charge."

  "That makes no sense, Dax," she said as she tugged on a strand of hair. She only did this when she was extremely agitated, and I couldn't understand why Beck's entry into rehab would make her so upset. "You can't just lock him away like that!"

  "I'm not locking him away," I replied. "I'm doing what's best for him."

  "You pulled him out of jail and stuck him right into another one," she said with an accusing look. "You're always doing whatever you want with him."

  "Ri, what's going on?" I asked. "Why are you suddenly so worked up over Beck getting clean?"

  "I'm not worked up about him getting clean," she grumbled as she slowed her pacing and perched on the edge of my desk. “Do you ever think about how what you do affects other people?"

  "Ri, what the hell are you talking about?"

  "I'm saying, you always do whatever you want," she said as she held my gaze. "You take what you want, you make the decisions you want to make, you affect people's lives all without ever asking them what they want."

  "Ri, look, I'm a businessman. I do what needs to be done. I don't ask people, because if I asked everyone how they felt about my decisions, none would ever get made," I replied. I could feel myself getting riled up. She was questioning me. My second in command, the person who was supposed to have my back and be my best friend, was questioning my decisions. "I make decisions because someone has to or we'd be in a shitload of trouble!"

  "Yeah, that's what Papi used to say, too," she mused as she looked down and flicked at a stack of papers lying on my desk.

  "Are you mad?" I asked.

  "Mad about what?"

  "I don't know, whatever the fuck you get mad about," I said exasperated with her guessing game.

  "No, I'm not mad, Dax," she said standing up and tugging at a strand of hair. "I'm not mad at all. I'm just tired of being your right-hand woman, your go-to girl, the one who gets shit done, but who never gets consulted about the big decisions. That's all."

  "What big fucking decision am I making that you're not part of?" I shouted. I was tired of the game playing and the buried resentment she was obviously carrying. "What, Ri? What is it?"

  "If you don't know, then I'm sure as hell not telling you," she said as she spun on her heel and stormed out, slamming the door hard enough to shake the pictures hanging on the wall.

  "What the fuck?" I yelled after her. Something was going on with her, but she wasn't interested in telling me about it, so I shrugged it off and picked up the phone.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  Brooke

  I was just leaving my parents' house with Teddy, who had offered to drop me off back at the office, when my phone rang.

  "Brooke? I need to talk to you," Dax said. There was an urgency in his voice that I hadn't heard earlier.

  "Yeah, what's going on?" I replied as I looked at my brother, hoping he would keep his big mouth shut.

  "I need to see you," he repeated. "Now."

  "Can it wait until tomorrow?" I asked. The truth was that I was worried about seeing him without Jordie or Roger being around. I didn't trust myself, and I definitely didn't trust Dax. We were like gasoline and a match, and I knew that if we ended up in the same room, things would explode.

  "No, it really can't," he said. "I need to talk to you tonight."

  "Alright, I'm on my way back to the office right now," I explained. "Can you meet me there?"

  "Yeah, sure," he said. "How long before you get there?"

  "Well, my brother's driving, so it'll probably be faster than I think it will be, he's a lead foot," I said, gently slugging Teddy's arm. Teddy stuck his tongue out and walked around the car, leaving the passenger side door locked while he got in and started the engine.

  "Hey!" I yelled forgetting that I was still connected to Dax.

  "What?" he said.

  "Nothing, my stupid brother is threatening to leave me here," I laughed as I pulled on the door handle and then pounded on the window. "Stupid brothers! Argh! Gotta go, see you in an hour!"

  I disconnected and pounded on the window again, yelling, "I'm telling Mom!"

  From inside the car, Teddy mouthed "tattletale" and then put the car in reverse, backing up a short distance before he stopped and unlocked the door.

  "Get in, pest!" he laughed. "I've got to get to the fire house."

  "You're the pest!" I pouted as I climbed in and shut the door. "To the office, Ted."

  "Don't push your luck, kid," he grinned as he reached over and cranked the rock station on his radio and began singing along with Van Halen.

  I rolled my eyes and yelled, "Old school!", over the song. Teddy laughed and sang louder.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  Dax

  I winced when I heard Brooke cursing older brothers. She had no idea how difficult it had been for me to put Beck in rehab, but he was my responsibility and I had to take care of him. I needed to see her, but she didn't know how much. I shook my head to clear it and then called down to the bar and told Kesha we needed to talk.

  "Sup, boss?" she said as she entered my office in a decidedly calmer manner than Riza had left it. She was wearing a wild combination of neon green and royal blue leggings with a blue top that cut down to her navel. Her mohawk was dyed a shocking shade of green today, and it stood straight up in wicked looking spikes. It was a startling look, but it was one that worked for her. Many of the club’s patrons came to the club specifically to see what Kesha's newest fashion statement was. I didn't care what she did, so long as paying customers kept coming.

  "What's going on with the shipment?" I asked as I looked at the computer screen in front of me. For as modern as our business was in many ways, in order to move the drugs, we had to rely on old-school, non-tech methods to get it from one place to another.

  "They said it's on its way right now, but that they were held up crossing the border," she said without blinking. "I'm expecting them to arrive in time for tonight's action."

  "Any trouble with the police since yesterday?" I asked.

  "No, but that's got me a little concerned, quite honestly," she said.

  "Why's that?'

  "Well, if you're charged with murdering your own lawyer, I'd expect there to be some nosing around to be done here," she said. "Instead, they all cleared out after they took you into the station."

  "Hmmm, that's interesting," I said. "What do you make of it?"

  "I don't know, but in my experience I'd say they're holding back because they've got something bigger and better coming," she said. "And, that has me worried."

  I sat and thought about it for a moment, then looked up at her a
nd said, "Divert the shipment to the west side holding pen."

  "But, boss, there's nothing available for tonight," she protested. "We need that shipment."

  "Yeah, but if we bring it in and you're right about them waiting for us to screw up, then we are seriously screwed and I'll be in jail for a lot more than murder. What we need is a team who can transport it into the club without getting caught," I said. "Do we have any good corner kids who are legal?"

  "Yeah, I got a few of them," she nodded, quickly tapping her phone screen. "How many you want?"

  "What's the crowd looking like for tonight?"

  "Pretty big, maybe five or six hundred," she said.

  "Shit, we're gonna need a lot of stuff then," I said as I tried to calculate the weight of what we'd need for the crowd. "Get as many of them as you can, but tell them they're going to have to dress like club kids tonight. No exceptions! We need a couple to filter in early and then the rest need to move with the crowd one by one."

  "Got it," she nodded. "I'll get them in here and going ASAP."

  "Kesha," I said.

  "Yeah, boss?"

  "You have got to make sure that every single one of those little mules blends the fuck in," I warned. "One fuck up and we're dead."

  "Got it, boss," she said.

  "I gotta run out for a bit," I said. "Errand that needs to be run. Text me if you run into any problems. But, Kesha..."

  "Yeah, boss?" she sounded a little irritated as she listened to me while rapidly tapping the screen of her phone.

  "Don't have any fucking problems," I warned.

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  Brooke

  Once the song was over, Teddy turned down the radio. "Brooke, you need to be careful with this case."

  "Oh God, not you, too," I groaned. "Pop already lectured me about this before you got there."