Shattered Billionaire: A Bad Boy Romance Series (Books 1-10)

by Kylie Parker

  He smiles, “I was honestly surprised to hear from you. Why are you calling me after almost two years?” He takes a sip of the coffee I had bought him. He seems legitimately confused about our meeting which is making him less and less suspicious by the minute.

  “I suppose you’ve seen Shattered INC. in the news a lot lately,” I say, and he nods. “The lawsuit against my company is going to be tossed out because they’ve cleared us of any wrongdoings. However, I have found out recently that you are one of the ones helping to pay for the lawyer who’s trying to sue me.”

  Martin suddenly laughs. “Oh God, that’s what this is about? Mr. Mont, I bought up a shit ton of your new line of supplements because I ran into Eddie, and he gave me a deal, and I handed them out in this stupid giveaway my company did a while back for my employees. Half of my staff wound up in the hospital after taking your shit, so when they all starting pointing fingers at me I offered to help pay for the lawyer –that’s all, I swear!” he has this stupid grin on his face. “I guess I was just trying to pass the blame game back to you and off of me to keep my employees from crying workers comp.”

  I let what he is saying sink in. Surely he still has some sort of grudge against me for firing him, but he seems so damn friendly. “Your company?” I ask.

  He smiles and pulls a brochure out of his jacket pocket, handing it to me. “I should honestly thank you, Mr. Mont,” he says, “I was headed down a dark path. My wife was thinking about leaving me and taking the kids. I was showing up drunk to work all the time because my alcoholism was getting the better of me. After you fired me, I didn’t have much of a choice but to grow up. I joined AA, and about a year after leaving the program I took out a loan and started my own branding business. As a matter of fact, Eddie’s used us a couple of times… so in a way, I guess I’m still working for Shattered.” He smiles brightly at me, “You firing me was a real wakeup call. I worked for your dad for years, and honestly I always thought of you as the sort of playboy joke son. Getting fired by you made me realize I must have really fucked up. If it wasn’t for you, I probably would have lost my kids.” He suddenly changes his demeanor. “I heard about Eddie. What happened?”

  “Honestly, Martin, I don’t know. Someone attacked him.” I look at him, trying to gage what he is thinking. It’s not him. I know it’s not. I guess I got to tell Sylvia strike one. “Honestly,” I say, looking him in the eye, “I had you meet me here today because I was going to accuse you, but you don’t exactly seem resentful.”

  Martin frowns. “No, I wouldn’t hurt Eddie. He was a good guy. And I’ll admit I was a little… upset… the day you fired me. Plus, I was drunk. I’m two years sober, I swear to it.”

  “I can tell.” I smile at him. “Look, I’m sorry. I’ve been racking my brain about the whole thing, but I just can’t figure it out. I don’t know who would want to do this to me.”

  “Have you looked into other people who jumped on the lawsuit bandwagon?” Martin asks. “Some woman was the one who initially hired the lawyer and started the lawsuit. I’ve never met her in person, but her name is Suzette. She’s been really sketchy, to be honest with you. Even the lawyer will tell you so, but money is money. She’s been sending the lawyer money, paying way more fines than me, and she’s always pushing the lawsuit forward despite repeatedly all of us being told that it wouldn’t go anywhere.”

  “You’ve never met her, but you’re working with her?” I question.

  “Yeah. The lawyer hasn’t even really met her. She’s just paying for others to be represented. She herself is not even on the list of victims. She’s just some woman sending funds to a lawyer and compiling lists of victims to get them riled up about the lawsuit. She sent a mass email to my company is the only reason I even know about her.” Martin sort of slumps his shoulders as though he has had some sort of epiphany. “Honestly, the more I think about it, the weirder it seems. She won’t speak with me on the phone, only email. The lawyer just accepts her money and moves on. She occasionally sends out email blasts to get everyone worked up about you, though. The emails are kind of hateful, actually.”

  “Her name is Suzette?” I ask.

  “Yeah, hold on,” Martin takes the brochure away from me and writes the woman’s email down for me. ladysue@yoddle.com

  “Is that all you got for me?” I ask.

  “Sorry, but that’s it,” Martin says, “That’s the only way she’s been communicating with my employees about the lawsuit. I can forward you the emails, if you like. One of my employees has been sending me them.”

  “Please do,” I say.

  I stare at the brochure with the email address. It isn’t much, but I have a first name and an email address. Looks like I got some sort of lead.

  66

  I’m really starting to hate the police station. I got called down here –again –to talk to the local deputies in charge of investigating Eddie’s murder. They’re a lot more relaxed towards me now since they dropped me as a suspect, so I did not feel the need to call Lillian to come down and straighten them out this time.

  The deputies who had been investigating the murder don’t really look me in the eye when I enter the precinct although they are somewhat friendly –asking me how I’ve been coping and whether or not I received the flowers they had sent to the funeral home. Suddenly they are being shooed away by a woman cop, the precincts chief, who asks to speak to me privately in her office. It’s a change of pace from the interrogation room, I’ll admit. She introduces herself as Chief Lawrence, but she tells me to just call her Kathy as she offers me coffee and sits down behind her desk. The door is closed so we can have a private conversation, and I’ll admit I’m suddenly finding myself on edge.

  “How have you been?” she asks.

  “I’ve been better, to be honest,” I say.

  “I’m sure,” she says, “My deepest sympathies.”

  “I’m actually glad you all called me down here. I think I found something that could be useful. This woman, I don’t have a last name, but she’s the one who has been initiating the lawsuit against me. Her name’s Suzette, and I have an email address –but that’s all. Something in my gut is telling me that this mystery woman might know something.” I say this with confidence, so the chief writes down the information as I presented it to her –saying she will have her deputies’ look into it.

  Her demeanor tells me that she is uncomfortable. She looks sad. She leans back in her desk, and I can tell that she is beating around the bush with whatever it is she is about to tell me. Eventually, though, she gets right to it. “James,” she says my first name to appear as friendly as possible, “I hate to be the one to tell you this, but Eddie did not die from complications from his injuries.”

  “I thought his heart attack was brought on by stress from his surgeries and his injuries?” I question.

  “Your brother had rat poison in his system. Upon further investigation, we have concluded that someone inserted liquefied rat poison into his iv. The hospital is cooperating with a full investigation.” Kathy pauses, letting what I have just heard sink in.

  I bite my bottom lip. One thought occurs to me. “He would have been okay,” I say, my throat tightening.

  “Yes,” she says. “Whoever hurt Eddie went back to finish the job. We are convinced now more than ever that whoever poisoned your supplements also attacked and killed Eddie. The same form of poison that was used in your supplements was used to kill Eddie.”

  I don’t know what to say. Eddie was recovering. He was getting better –now they’re telling me he would have been fine if someone had not come back after him? Kathy keeps talking to me, but I’m not listening. She’s trying to assure me that everything is fine. That they’re going to find out who did this. I pop off at her, “Well you’re not any damn closer than you’ve been for months! You don’t have a damn clue who’s behind this! I don’t either! Your jackass investigators wasted their damn time looking into me, now whoever killed my brother is probably gone and has moved on
by now. He’s probably in hiding laughing his ass off at how stupid you all are! Why don’t you do something? What the fuck are you even…” my voice trails off. I bite my tongue. “I’m sorry,” I say in a much calmer voice. “I think I need a minute.”

  “Of course,” she says and leaves me alone in her office.

  He would have lived. He would have been okay. That’s the part I can’t get past. Eddie was healing. He was getting better. I had just assumed all of his injuries and medications and repeated surgeries and all the stress he was under had caused his heart attack –not this. Not rat poison. Not someone coming back to finish the job –to make sure their tracks were covered. Whoever did this, I’m going to kill him. I’m going to fucking kill him.

  67

  Sylvia had insisted that the two of us go out after I told her what I had been told by the chief at the station. I am devastated, and Sylvia knows that. She wants me to be distracted. I decided that that was a good thing –that I needed it. I told her I wanted to plan a nice date for us, and I went all out. I needed something to occupy my mind during the day, so I thought up fun date ideas. We always do something wild and crazy, so I come up with something a little more romantic this time around.

  We take my company’s yacht out of the bay, and I cooked us a fancy lobster dinner. Yes, ladies, I cook too. Sylvia is dressed up in a long, black dress with her blonde hair pulled up on her head in a messy bun –a piece of silver jewelry was keeping her bun on top of her head. It was a diamond encrusted dragonfly clip, and it looked really fancy tucked up on the side of her head.

  She laugh and joke around with one another as we sat at the table out on the deck of the ship, looking out into the harbor while under the stars. It really is nice. She makes rude comments towards me about our orgy with Lillian and Daisy –mostly teasing me, but also she admits to having had a good time. Sometimes I just don’t understand her. It’s like I can do no wrong. She’s always in a good mood. She’s always happy around me. She’s always looking for ways to make me happy. In a way, it’s almost too perfect.

  Halfway through enjoying our fancy lobster dinner I click a button a remote I had been hiding under the table, and music starts playing. She smiles and props her elbows up on the table, resting her chin in her hands. “Music too? Don’t tell me you’re taking me dancing, Mr. Mont?”

  I smile this ridiculously big smile. I’m sure she can see that I’m really fascinated and infatuated and a little obsessed with her. I’m sure it is plastered all over my face as I lean forward, take her by the hand, and lead her to the deck of the ship to have a private dance.

  I’m going to have to give my mother a shout out for this one. She had always wanted to take dancing lessons with our dad, but he had refused time and time again –too busy with work. She made Eddie and I sign up when I was fourteen and forced us to this dance hall every Thursday night. We were always the only kids there, and most of the adults were twice the age of my own mother, and while neither of us would have ever admitted it out loud –we kind of had fun. The old men would enjoy having us there because their wives would give them a break on occasion saying, “Oh you know Mrs. Mont always brings both her boys –I’ll just dance with one of them tonight if you’re back is hurting you.” Mom always told us we would appreciate the dance lessons one day. The big smile on Sylvia’s face is making me appreciate it now.

  “You dance too?” She laughs as I spin her around.

  “I guess I’m a man of many talents,” I say. I pull her in closer, and we start swaying a little slower as the song changes.

  She wraps her arms around me and lays her head on my chest. “You know, when you first asked me on a date, I had been so nervous.”

  “Nervous? Why?”

  “Because you’re James Mont. The guy I had gushed over for a while because of a damn advertising poster you were on. The billionaire playboy. I suppose I had just convinced myself not to be too excited –that you were probably not this sweet fantasy guy I had worked up in my head.” She looks up at me and smile.

  “You know I thought the same about you. When you ran into that coffee shop I about lost my mind. I had stared at your picture every day on my way to work on that billboard. Honestly, I just thought you were a pretty face and that we would just have this little fling for a while… and yes, you’re beautiful, but you’re so much more than that to me.” I lean down and kiss her lips, and we stay embraced like that for a while, still swaying to the music. “I love you,” I say, and I say it with actual intent unlike the enthusiastic and spontaneous words I had said to Éclair.

  She smiles. “James, I love you too.”

  “I want to be with you, Sylvia,” I say. “And I’m sorry it took me so long to figure that out. No more dating around. I just want you.”

  Sylvia raises an eyebrow at me. “What about your friend Éclair?” she says the name like it leaves a bad taste on her mouth.

  “Next time I see her I’m telling her that we’re through. That I can’t see her anymore –at all. She’s too toxic for me.” I grab Sylvia’s hands and hold them up, kissing her fingers as I look her in the eye. “I just want you, Sylvia.”

  Her face turns bright red, and she just smiles at me. Without saying a word, we head below deck to one of the luxury rooms and find a bed. We’re both so quiet as we remove our clothes and lay down next to one another, gently kissing one another’s lips. I tell her I love her probably five more times –excited to say those words to someone. A part of me has this feeling of guilt because I know I’m not just going to be breaking off sex with Éclair. I literally cannot see her anymore –the friendship has to end too if I’m ever going to make things work with Syliva. Éclair has always been my favorite little temptress –there is something about her that just draws me back to her time and time again. And it’s not like I’ll just be breaking up with some side chick. I really meant it when I told her she was my best friend. Things with Sylvia are just so much easier. We never fight. We actually talk about our feelings, and it’s like they always line up with one another. Not to mention I’ve been fantasizing about her ever since that billboard went up almost two years ago.

  I put my mouth around one of her nipples, giving it a gentle suck –she giggles. “James, stop that, it tickles…”

  I kiss her perfectly toned stomach and run my hands all over her, giving her a nice massage before we get going. She’s incredibly receptive of the gesture. I plunge into her, and I have got to say that there are some serious sparks flying tonight. “God, I love you!” I say, and she takes my face into her hands as I hover over her, our pelvises tightly intact.

  She strokes my eyebrows and the side of my face with her thumbs. She just looks so happy. Honestly, truly happy. It’s hard to believe that a man like me could make someone smile like that.

  68

  I told Sylvia that I was going to break things off with Éclair, but that did not necessarily mean that I was going to seek her out to do it. I haven’t spoken to Éclair in over a week after our uncomfortable incident in the bedroom, and I’m glad. I don’t exactly know how to tell someone I care about that I don’t want to ever see them again –especially not after slipping up and uttering, “I love you,” in bed. Especially someone I’ve considered to be a friend for so long.

  Today I decided to visit Eddie’s grave, and it’s not easy. The grass hasn’t grown over the grave yet, so it’s this mucky pile of moist dirt in front of his tombstone, although there are flowers everywhere so it kind of hides the mess. He’s buried beside our parents… beside my parents, I suppose. I took care to have Eddie buried beside our mom instead of beside Dad. He wouldn’t have wanted to be beside Dad, I’m sure –not after getting screwed out of the inheritance and finding out about not really being his kid through a coldly written letter. A small part of me wants to piss on my old man’s grave for that one. I sigh, reminding myself that even Eddie had once said, “at least he took care of me.”

  Dad did. He took care of Eddie. He was always more favorable t
owards me, sure, but he did a lot for Eddie. He did all the dad stuff even if he was just going through the motions with him. Taught him to ride a bike, bought him his first car, sat through all the stupid ball games (even though Eddie sucked at sports), and paid his way through college. Yes, on paper, he did what he was supposed to. He took care of Eddie, but looking back I can’t believe I did not notice the difference. Eddie, the good older son, would always come to Shattered INC. to learn about the family business while I was off goofing around, but Eddie was still never good enough. I had always assumed the ridiculously high expectations our father –my father –had for Eddie was because he had wanted Eddie to take over the company. No, he was just harsher on him because he was this constant reminder that Mom had had an affair early on in their marriage. Dad wanted to keep things under wraps to keep from tarnishing his reputation, so he played nice. He was always nicer to Eddie in public than behind closed doors –that much I remember. He wouldn’t hit him or anything like that, but he was distance. I can recall a number of times being invited on father-son outings and wondering why Eddie had not been invited. Going fishing? Great! Why isn’t Eddie coming? Oh, he’s spending time with Mom –gotcha! Going to the ballgame? Awesome! What about Eddie? Oh, he’s grounded again –weird that I never get grounded for doing ten times worse shit, but whatever –go Angels! How did I not notice?

  I feel kind of lonesome now. Both of my parents died fairly young. Mom didn’t even make it into her sixties. They lived a high-stressed lifestyle, so that will do it. I wonder if I’ll be in an early grave too. I shake the thought away. I’ve always been pretty good at relieving stress. Come to think of it, I probably won’t have a heart attack or cancer or a stroke –if I don’t settle down, I’ll probably be taken out by AIDS or some shit like that.