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

by Alexa Davis

  "Sure, whatever," I said as I looked down at my feet. I felt like an outsider and by the way Natalia was behaving, I knew for certain that I was one.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Max

  "My, my, my, she's certainly a cute one, isn't she?" Natalia teased as we rode to the theater. She reached out to run her hand down my thigh, but I shifted away.

  "You didn't have to be so rude to her," I scolded and looked out the window.

  "You're mad," she observed. "You're always a pain when you're crushing out over some new girl. This too shall pass, Max."

  "It's not Lexi," I said darkly.

  "Then, what's got you so moody tonight?" she asked impatiently. "You're not going to be any fun if you keep this up, and I've arranged for you to meet some potential investors tonight, so you'd better put on a cheerful face or they're going to be completely turned off by your bad attitude."

  "Kristov is dead," I said flatly.

  "What?" she gasped and reached for my hand. "Oh, Max, no!"

  "He was executed this morning in his bedroom," I said without looking at her. I pulled my hand away and stared out the window as I recalled the scene and the way in which I found my brother. "He was with a couple of girls. They were killed, too."

  "What did Vladimir say?" she quickly asked. "He must be enraged."

  "He was surprisingly calm," I admitted. "But he put the onus on me to find the killers and avenge Kristov's death. I have no idea who did this, but I am going to make them pay once I find them."

  "How can I help?" Natalia's ability to change gears and adjust to the situation was one of the things I valued most about her. She might have started the night trying to seduce me, but now that she knew the situation, she switched into action mode and pushed everything else aside.

  "Can you put out some feelers and see who's out there talking about it?" I gripped her hand and squeezed tightly. She nodded as she returned the squeeze.

  We didn't talk about Kristov for the rest of the evening. Instead, Natalia took control as she smiled and small talked her way through the crowds of people in the lobby. She introduced me to a number of potential investors, and then led the conversation toward light topics, rather than business. She did all of the work as I hung back and tried to figure out my next move – and kept trying to push Lexi and the way her body had felt pressed against mine out of my mind.

  I was relieved when we finally found our seats and the lights went down. Despite my protests, I actually enjoyed Ibsen's work and Nora's dilemma took my mind off of my problems for a short time. However, nothing to could take my mind completely off of Lexi. During the intermission, I tried to call her, but her phone went straight to voicemail. I spent the next hour trying to focus Nora's attempts to solve her problem with Torvald and the loan she'd secretly taken out, but it did little good and my mind wandered back to the penthouse as I wondered what Lexi was doing and why she hadn't answered my call.

  When the curtain rose, Nat leaned over and whispered, "Go home. Go find her and figure out what's going on."

  "Am I that obvious?" I chuckled.

  "Probably not to everyone," she replied, patting my arm. "But I've known you for most of my life. Go find Lexi, Max. I'll put out the word on the street and see what I can come up with about Kristov."

  I winced when she said his name, causing her to pull me into a hug. I was grateful, but I didn't have time for sentimentality. I needed to find out who had killed my brother before Papa did. If he found them first, then there would be an all-out war. If I could find them, though, I could take care of the problem quickly and efficiently without the mess. It wasn't that I was less brutal than Papa, it's just that I had subtler ways of dealing with those who acted out against the family. The man who killed my brother would pay – that much was certain.

  "Go to her," Natalia urged, pulling me out of my thoughts. "I've got work to do here."

  "Yeah, sure," I nodded as I turned and walked toward the waiting car. When I turned back to look at Natalia, she had disappeared into the crowd.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Lexi

  After Max and Natalia had left for the theater, I poured myself a glass of wine and took it out on the balcony, where I sat and thought about how stupid I'd been for harboring some silly little fantasy about how Max might be the handsome prince who would sweep me off my feet and carry me away to happily-ever-after land. I hadn't realized I'd actually been thinking that until Natalia had shown up and blown the fragile dream to bits with her presence.

  I grabbed my phone and dialed Viv. She picked up on the third ring and sounded out of breath.

  "Hey, Wally, what's up?" she asked.

  "What in the heck are you doing, Viv?" I laughed as she breathed heavily into the phone. "You sound like an obscene phone caller!"

  "I'm working out!" she said. "I've got to be able to fit into whatever insanely form-fitting bridesmaid dress you pick out and I've only got a month."

  "Viv?" I said shaking my head on the other end. "You do realize that this isn't real, don't you? The wedding, the dresses, none of it is for an actual wedding. It's a publicity stunt designed to garner attention for investors."

  "I don't care if it's nothing but an excuse for a shopping trip with my best friend," she laughed. "I'm still going to be able to fit into a smoking hot dress!"

  "You're crazy, you know that, right?"

  "Crazy as a fox!" she replied. "What's going on?"

  "I need advice," I admitted. I hadn't told Viv how I felt about Max, but she'd been pushing me to take things further since the start of the whole adventure. I hadn't told her about the night before, and I wasn't sure I wanted to, but telling the story without all the parts seemed counterproductive.

  "Hit me up, I'll give it free of charge," she panted. "But I'm going into aerobic mode, so just keep talking for the next five minutes while I climb this hill."

  "We fooled around last night, Viv," I said, deciding to go straight for the truth.

  "Wait, what?" I heard something clunk in the background. "I've got to sit down to hear this. Okay, lay it on me."

  I told her about our dinner on the balcony and how it had turned into a seriously heavy petting session that ended with mutual masturbation. And then, I told her how I'd run back to my own bedroom and left him sleeping on the chaise.

  "You left Max Malin sleeping on a chaise on the balcony of his penthouse after the two of you had mutually satisfied each other, but not had sex?" she asked. "Am I getting the story right?"

  "Yes, Viv," I said rolling my eyes.

  "Don't roll your eyes at me," she warned then added, "And don't act surprised that I know you're doing it."

  "You're impossible," I laughed.

  "No, you're the impossible one," she gently scolded. "Jeez, Wally, what the hell? Why aren't you buffing his brains out tonight?"

  "Now, we're getting to the problem," I said. "He's already got a girlfriend."

  "Huh? How is that possible?" she said.

  "She showed up to take him to the theater tonight," I sighed. "She's gorgeous. Tall, curvy, impeccable taste in clothes and jewelry, and they've known each other since they were teens. What else could you want? It's like a fairytale story – one that doesn't have room for me in it."

  "Oh give me a break," she said, and this time, I could hear her rolling her eyes. "He's not involved with her. They're BFFs, it's the most common thing in the world."

  "What are you talking about?" I laughed. "It's not common!"

  "Of course it is," she replied. "Case in point, Rory Michaels."

  "What about him?"

  "He's my Max, and I'm his Natalie."

  "Natalia," I corrected her.

  "Whatever," she said impatiently. "The point is that he and I go places, do things, hang out, and have sex – pretty damn good sex, I might add – but we're not a couple, nor will we ever be."

  "Why not?" I asked, truly confused by what she was saying.

  "Oh please, Rory? Give me a break!"<
br />
  "Wait, you're doing everything a girlfriend would do with a boyfriend, but you won't ever consider him your boyfriend?" I couldn't wrap my brain around what she was saying.

  "Yep, that's it exactly," she said.

  "That is seriously messed up." I shook my head trying to process it. "What if one of you meets someone you want to actually date?"

  "Then, the other one backs off and lets go," she said. "It happens all the time. What world are you living in, Wally? Have you not heard of this before?"

  "No! I've never heard of this; it's insane!" I cried. "I don't…oh forget it."

  "I know, you can't wrap your pretty little brain around it," she laughed. "You really need to read The Ethical Slut, girlfriend. I've been pushing it ever since I took History of Sexuality at DePaul. It changed my life."

  "So, now you're recommending a course in ethical non-monogamy to help solve my problems?" I laughed. Leave it to Viv to use my personal relationship anguish to push her polyamory agenda. "I think I'll pass this time, Viv. But you've given me something to consider."

  "I'm just saying that while it might look like he's involved with the woman, he might not actually be," she offered. "You'll never know until you ask. Use your words, my little friend. Use your words. You might be pleasantly surprised at what you find."

  "Fine, whatever," I said in an exasperated tone. "I'll ask. I'll ask when he gets home."

  "No, you won't," she laughed. "But at least you'll keep your mind open to other possibilities!"

  "Viv, you're a real pill, you know that don't you?" I sighed.

  "Yeah, but you love me," she laughed. "Now, I need to get back to climbing this mountain, so that I can fit into the dress! I'll see you tomorrow for our shopping trip!"

  "See you tomorrow, and Viv?" I said softly.

  "Yeah?"

  "Thanks."

  "That's what I'm here for, Wally! Love ya, babe!" she replied before disconnecting.

  I sat looking out over the city as the lights twinkled and the traffic moved below and wondered if Viv was right. If she was, this would open a new door between Max and I.

  I just hoped I was prepared to walk through it.

  CHAPTER THRITY-NINE

  Max

  We were halfway home when my phone rang. The number was the landline at Ursus, and when I answered, the voice on the other end was Feliks, my father's right hand man.

  "Maksim, you need to come to the bar now," he said. "Your father had been injured and we need to talk."

  "What do you mean, injured?" I asked.

  "Come to Ursus, now," he said before disconnecting. It was just like my father to have one of his men call and drop a bomb without explaining, but after Kristov's murder this morning, I wasn't going to question it. I redirected my driver and stared out the window, silently watching the darkened city streets rush by. I'd talk with Lexi later. Right now, I had to find out what was going on.

  When I walked into the bar, I noticed that one of the mirrors behind the liquor display had been shattered and only jagged fragments remained. The bartender pointed in the direction of the back room as he continued sweeping up the mess, and I followed his directions.

  "Papa? Papa, what happened here?" I called as I walked through the door leading to the private meeting room my father had built for the bratán.

  "Zhopa!" he swore angrily. "That's what happened! Those zhopan come into my bar and start trouble, and I'm going to end it!"

  "Papa, what the hell happened?" I asked trying to hide the shock of what I was seeing. Papa was sitting on a chair off to the side of the huge round table where he and his bratán held meetings and often played dice or cards while they drank. He was holding a bag of ice over one eye, and when he pulled it away to show me, I could see that he'd been badly beaten. His eye was red and completely swollen shut and his lip was still trickling blood where it had been split. Sitting next to him was his personal physician and best friend, who was working with a set of well-worn tools as he set what appeared to be a broken wrist.

  "It's the young thugs, Maksimka," my father shook his head wearily and winced as the doctor realigned his wrist before wrapping it and starting to apply the cast material. Papa quietly said something to him in Russian before turning his attention back to me. "It's Dementyev's boys. I've seen them before. They're ruthless."

  "But what happened? How did they get you?" I asked, unable to believe that a group of young thugs could have gotten through my father's guards. I turned and looked at them.

  "Don't get upset with them, Maksimka," Papa gently scolded. "I tangled with the young ones. They were disturbing business, and I'd had enough of their drunken outbursts!"

  He described how the boys had come in, loud and rowdy, and begun picking fights with various patrons. Knowing what had happened with Kristov, no one wanted to engage with the thugs, but they persisted until my father had come out from the back room and demanded they leave. At that point, one of the thugs had challenged Papa to a fight and when he'd laughed and told him that he wasn't going to fight a baby kitten, they boy lunged at Papa and punched him. Papa had put up a good fight, Feliks assured me, but the other boys had held the rest of the crowd at gunpoint while Papa and the ringleader had duked it out.

  When the thug had decided he'd had enough, he whistled to the ones holding the guns and they'd all run out, but not before the leader stopped and spit on the bar and dropped his calling card. Papa handed it over to me to look at. It was a plain white business card with an intricate Celtic cross in the center and MIR, the Russian word for peace, inscribed underneath it.

  "I don't get it," I said as I looked down at the card and back at Papa. "What does this mean?"

  "In Moscow, the Celtic cross was a symbol of the white power movement," he explained as he knocked back the shot of vodka Feliks put in front of him. "They're racist bastards. And the word MIR is peace, but it also means that he'll only be reformed by a firing squad. It's a death wish, Maksim."

  "But why are they after you, Papa? What do they want?"

  "Maksim, this is why I needed you to come back and help your brother," he said quietly. "The wolves are circling. That sookin syn Dementyev is trying to take over all the business on the West Side and he's a snake. He has no respect for traditions. He has no honor."

  "Do you think those are the ones who killed Kristov?" I asked in a low voice. "Did they do it, Papa?"

  "No, Maksim, they're too young and foolish," he shook his head and looked down at the cast on his arm. "They have no self-control. The ones who killed Kristov are disciplined. They are soldiers."

  I nodded and stood silently, waiting for my father to tell me what it was he wanted me to do. Years of conditioning had made me wary of proposing any ideas or plans unless he'd deemed them worthy, but looking down at him, it dawned on me that he was an old man. He looked fragile and tired, and I worried that the reason everything was going to hell was because he wasn't strong enough to lead.

  Secretly, I also worried that Kristov had made enemies that my father knew nothing about and that this wave of attack had nothing to do with Papa and everything to do with my brother. I ran my hand through my hair and shook my head as I tried to sort it all out. I looked at Papa, then around the room at the bratán who stood faithfully guarding him. They would protect him while I figured out what to do next. I had to trust that they would, and when I scanned the room, each one nodded almost imperceptibly as if they knew what I was thinking and were agreeing to shoulder the burden.

  "Papa, I want you to go home and stay there," I said. I knew I was taking a risk in ordering him around in front of his men, but I also knew that someone had to step up and take charge right now. And the way I figured, it was better me than an outsider. "I need to figure some things out and I can't do that if I'm worried about you being killed here in the bar."

  "I can't take time off!" he bellowed as he slammed his newly casted hand down on the table. The roar of pain that followed caused us all to look away. Right now, Vladimir Malinch
enko was a broken man, and I would have to step in and take his place.

  "Go home, Papa," I said as I looked at Feliks. "Go home and just rest for a few days until I get this straightened out. Just give me a few days, please?"

  "Fine," he grumbled as he peered at me with one eye. "Do what you need to do. I'll stay home for three days. But just three! Do you understand me, Maksim? Three days!"

  "Yes, Papa," I replied dutifully. I knew I would probably need a lot more time than that, but three days was a good start.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Lexi

  The next morning, I walked into the kitchen and found Max fixing coffee as usual. He seemed tired and withdrawn, and when I said good morning, he gave me a wan smile and handed me a cup of steaming hot coffee.

  "Are you okay?" I asked.

  "Yeah, just a lot on my mind this morning," he said as he poured himself a cup and pulled out the business section of the paper. I took the front page and we sat reading in compatible silence until I ran across a local story that made me gasp.

  "Max, did you see this?" I asked as I held up the paper. "Local bar owner beaten by thugs. It says that they think these guys are part of the mafia and may be connected to a shooting that took place earlier in the week. What the heck is going on over in Wicker Park?"

  "It's a crazy city, Lexi," he said, never taking his eyes off of the paper in front of him. "I have no clue what's happening on the West Side, but it doesn't sound good, does it?"

  "I just thought maybe you'd know since you know some of the Russians who come and buy jewelry," I ventured. I wanted to ask more questions, but he didn't seem to be in the mood to answer them.

  "I really couldn't tell you," he said as he looked up and flashed me one of the most fake smiles I'd ever seen.

  "Don't pull the salesman smile on me, Mr. Malin," I scolded in a joking tone. "I'm not buying."