Billionaire On Fire: The Complete Series (A Bad Boy Alpha Billionaire Romance)

by Claire Adams

  “I am thinking of changing it.” He shrugged. “There are some things only this branch of South National has to offer. Exclusively.”

  I sighed. “Rick. We have been through this already. You know where I stand on this whole thing.”

  His smile didn’t falter. “I know. I thought we stood at being friends.”

  That made me smile back at him and at the exact moment I saw Zayden looking at us sternly. “Yes, that sounds about right. But you really shouldn’t be here.”

  “I am not stalking, I promise. I had to go visit a friend next door and I remembered you telling me you worked here. It probably sounds like bullshit – given the age-old ‘I was in the neighborhood’ line – but I really was. I can give you his number if you like.”

  I laughed, trying not to look at Zayden. His fierce stares were starting to make me uncomfortable. “I believe you, and thanks for stopping by.”

  “Of course, any time. I thought I would also check up on our coffee hangout. I owe you a delicious cup of Frappuccino for everything I made you go through.”

  “You don’t owe me anything. Like I said, I am over everything that happened. But yes, we can grab that coffee sometime.”

  “Perhaps you could plan that coffee date when I am not paying you by the hour,” I heard a different, angrier voice say. Zayden was standing in front of us, looking about ready to commit murder. I had never seen him this angry before. Not even when he was yelling on the phone the other day. My knees trembled and I looked over at Rick. He looked petrified, his face turning pale white.

  “I’m sorry,” he was saying in the voice of a mouse. “I did not mean to distract her from her job.”

  “You know who I am?” Zayden said, his eyes almost red.

  “Duh. Most people do around here. I’m Richard Kruz. A friend of Aria’s.”

  “I don’t care if you’re the mother of Jesus. If you need to flirt with my employees, do it on your own time. Now please leave the premises of my building before I call security.”

  Rick looked like he was about to throw up and muttered another “sorry” before strutting out of the building. If I wasn’t so terrified myself, I would be laughing hard at the look on his face. He definitely deserved this.

  “You,” Zayden snapped. “In my office. Now.”

  He had never spoken to me like that, and now my amusement and fear was starting to turn into anger. God, he was being an ass. I followed him to his office, rage spreading through my body.

  “Close the door behind you,” he said in the same angry tone.

  I complied, if for no other reason than to avoid a scene. There was never a good time to be chastised by Zayden Sinclair, but the worst time ever would be during the middle of the day at both our workplaces with everyone listening as they pretended to work.

  It would be difficult to continue to keep my cool if he kept acting this way though.

  Chapter 6

  Zayden

  I couldn’t justify the intense anger I felt in that moment. Just looking at her face was making me want to throw something out the window, and it had taken all the reserve I could muster not to punch that college punk in the face for daring to flirt with her right in front of my eyes.

  “Who the fuck was that?” I snapped bitterly.

  “I won’t answer until you ask again,” she said defiantly. “More politely.”

  The nerve she had to tell me what the fuck to do was pissing me off! I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. She wasn’t going to make this easy, and the angrier I got, the more I needed to find out who that kid was, so he could be banned from the bank premises forever.

  “Aria, who was that guy that you agreed to go on a coffee date with?”

  “First of all, if you had been listening without the intention of hearing whatever you wanted to, you would realize it’s not a date. We specifically had a conversation about just being friends, and I very calmly and nicely rejected all his other advances.”

  “Too nicely. You should have told him to fuck off. I’m going to ask again, who was he?”

  She sighed. “Calm down, Zayden. It’s nobody important.”

  “It obviously is if you are making plans with him.”

  “I make plans with Nick all the time. You know, my roommate, who you thought I was also screwing. That doesn’t bother you.”

  “He’s dating your friend. I hardly have anything to worry about there.”

  “And you hardly have anything to worry about here either. You heard the whole conversation!”

  “I saw how he was looking at you. I know that look… it’s the same one I give you all the time.” I tried to keep my voice from sounding betrayed and pathetic, but I suspected I wasn’t doing a superb job of it.

  “Rick is the very last guy on Earth I would ever get involved with, I promise you.”

  That name sounded familiar. After our first night she had said something about a Dick… I was half passed out from cumming, but I had heard her say something about something about a guy named Dick… Rick. And then it hit me.

  Holding on very tightly to my stress ball, I said, “Your ex.”

  “Yes, my ex,” she snapped. “Ex. Meaning in the past. I don’t know if you were paying attention, but that guy hurt me quite a lot. He cheated on me on our anniversary and it took me forever to get over it. I spent the majority of the year hating him.”

  “Oh really? How often do you go out for coffee with someone you hate,” I challenged, my fingernails digging through the palm of my hands. The pain was oddly soothing.

  “Not very often. But you know what? Before you came along, I would never ever have agreed to be friends with him. Because in some part of me, I still cared. Now I don’t. Because I care about you. And I have no reason to hate him. He almost did me a favor. In some ways, I am grateful… if he hadn’t cheated on me, you and I would have never…”

  She stopped, perhaps realizing that she had said more than she intended.

  “You can’t talk to him anymore.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You are not allowed to go anywhere near that guy.”

  She flared her nostrils. “You can’t tell me who I can or cannot talk to. You think you own me?”

  “Actually I kind of do,” I spat. “In this regard anyway. It’s in the contract. Section 9. You’re not allowed to engage in any sort of relationship – platonic or otherwise – with a man I disapprove of. And I assure you, I disapprove of this guy.”

  She opened her mouth in anger and closed it again. Tears were now freely streaming down her face, her mascara running down her cheeks. I didn’t want her to cry. But more importantly, I didn’t want her talking to that guy.

  She looked like she wanted to say something a few times but changed her mind. After standing there in silence for a few minutes, she stormed out of the office.

  People had definitely witnessed the production, and I worried about being insulted by my own employees. I did not need this kind of attention. Why did I care who she spoke to anyway? She was just some girl I had contracted to win a challenge in my own head, yet this whole ordeal made me feel extremely vulnerable. So much so that I had ended up creating a scene at work; something that had never, ever happened, in my entire career.

  Aria Roberts was turning out to be more trouble than I needed in my life. Yet I knew just then that I would not be able to rest peacefully until I knew for sure that no one else shared her attention. She was to be – for whatever duration she had signed up for – completely and utterly mine.

  I didn’t care how that made me seem. I wanted what I wanted, and I always got what I wanted. If she didn’t stop talking to him, I’d have him shipped off the state in no time. Money talks.

  She would then hate me if she found out. I felt an uncomfortable knot in my chest. I didn’t want her to hate me. I would have to find a better tactic. What happened today could not be repeated. If I wanted to enjoy the remainder of these few months, it was in my best interest to learn to keep
my emotions in check.

  The trouble was, I had never before had trouble keeping my emotions in check, and I really did not know how.

  Chapter 7

  Aria

  “Not now Stace!” I yelled from my room after Stacey’s fourteenth attempt to knock on my door.

  “I come bearing cookies. With huge chocolate chunks. Don’t tell me your mouth isn’t watering smelling all the freshly baked goods.”

  I sighed. She was right; Stacey knew me too well. The aroma of the cookies baking had definitely attracted my attention, but if I knew one thing about myself, it was to not allow binging on sugar while I was upset. It usually started with one cookie or just a spoonful of ice-cream, and next thing I knew I would be laying amidst a mountain of wrappers and empty tubs of ice-cream. I was such a freaking stereotype sometimes. Since I literally had no time for the gym in my schedule between work and classes, this always ended up being a horrible idea.

  “Thank you, but I honestly just need to continue stuffing my head in this pillow and ignoring humanity for a little bit longer.”

  “What if I promise not to make you talk about whatever it is that’s bothering you?” Stacey offered patiently. “Though I assume it’s Zayden related. You can talk to me when you’re ready, but don’t take it out on yummy sugary deliciousness.”

  “How delicious?” I couldn’t help but ask. Stacey was a master baker, so it was a stupid question, in any case.

  “Better than Halloween.”

  I gasped and jumped to open the door. Damn it, Stacey.

  “It can’t be better than Halloween. You had peaked. That’s physically impossible,” I said reaching for one giant cookie, while Stacey made herself comfortable in my bed.

  One large bite and I was ready to collapse, all my troubles temporarily evaporating. The cookie seemed to be ninety percent chocolate and just the right amount of crunchy, with buttery sweetness and the tiniest hint of vanilla. I closed my eyes and ate the rest of the cookie in slow bites, savoring every aspect of the immaculate taste and texture. For a moment I completely forgot why I had myself locked in my room for the last few days.

  “Good?” Stacey was grinning at me, all prideful, when I opened my eyes.

  “Horrible,” I said returning her grin. “Absolutely disgusting.”

  I reached out for another one and devoured it. “Seriously, the worse cookies I’ve ever had.”

  Stacey chuckled. “I’m glad you think so too. Now listen, I know you don’t want to talk about whatever is bothering you, and that’s fine. But you’ve been locked in here for days and that’s not healthy. Let’s do something. Outdoors.”

  “Nah, I’m not feeling it,” I said automatically. “You go ahead though. Leave me the plate of horrible cookies, of course.”

  “Aria. Come on. This isn’t good. You haven’t gone to work and you need the money! And you missed your Stats mid-term, didn’t you?”

  No one was supposed to know about that. This was unusual for me: letting personal matters affect my academic performance. But I was in no mood to run into Zayden or Rick or deal with any of that bullshit.

  “I told my professor I had diarrhea. He was all too glad to let me make it up.”

  She raised her eyebrows suspiciously. “Does not sound like the Stats dude, at all.”

  “You want to see the email?”

  I wasn’t lying. Apparently the professor had recently suffered from food poisoning himself, and preferred staying away from anybody with stomach related issues. My make-up test was next week.

  “Fine. What about your other classes?”

  “I have As in everything. They aren’t going to bust me for missing a class or two. I’m the best they have.”

  “How do you manage to stay so modest?”

  “I don’t have to be. It’s true, you know it’s true. And when have I done this before? Don’t I deserve one tiny break?”

  That made Stacey hug me for some reason. “Never. You have never done anything like this before, Aria. Which is what makes me worry so much. You didn’t even miss a single class when Dick cheated on you. That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve a break! Of course you do. You work harder than anyone I know.”

  “Thank you. I’m sorry for being such a recluse. I just have a lot of things to sort through my head. I’ll tell you all about it eventually. Right now I’m just confused and frustrated and just need a little time to think things over. And the cookies helped. A lot. You’re the bestest friend ever.”

  “You know what else will help? A night out. Just you, me and Nick, goofing around. No boy-talk, no moping, no worrying, just an obscene amount of shots.”

  “I lost my fake I.D. remember? Can’t get in.”

  “Don’t worry. What do you think Nick’s off doing right now? We’re on it.”

  “What do you mean you’re on it?” I laughed. “How did you know I would agree to this? I still haven’t!”

  “Please, I knew I’d convince you the second you opened the door. There is a reason I spent all day baking, I know how to get to you.” She winked.

  “You manipulative genius,” I said with a mock-shocked expression. “I’m not coming.”

  She sniggered. “Then why are you walking towards your closet?”

  “Because, closet police, I’d like to change into some nice clothes. It’s good for the morale. And these pajamas are just about ready to disintegrate from overuse.”

  “Do you want to borrow my red strappy sandals? They’ll go well with the dress you’re holding.”

  “Why would I do that?” I asked defensively. “I don’t need to wear nice shoes to hang around the apartment in a pretty dress.”

  ---

  Two hours later we were in The Dive, a small bar a few miles outside the university that Nick had discovered his freshmen year. “It’s a good place to get away from college kids,” he’d said, as though he was a very old man constantly aggravated by the youth.

  My fake I.D. had worked brilliantly, even though it had expired last month. Nick had somehow managed to convince a redheaded senior from his Biometrics class to make me another one for free. I suspected he’d be doing her homework for the rest of the semester, and felt extremely grateful for friends like Nick and Stacey in my life.

  The Dive was, to my great relief, not too packed. A few men in business suits were occupying the bar, but other than that and two tables with giggly couples, it was empty. We sat at the booth to the far right next to the dart board that nobody ever used. A waitress came over to us.

  “Would you guys like anything to drink before you order?”

  “We are here just for drinks, actually,” Nick said politely.

  “Actually, can I just look at the appetizers?” I said to make her feel better, but then realized I actually could eat something. Aside from Stacey’s cookies, I hadn’t really eaten in two days.

  “I’ll grab the special appetizers menu for you ma’am, be right back,” the waitress said and scurried off.

  “So guys,” Stacey began to say, who had thus far been busy fiddling with her phone. She looked up. “Do you want to play Numbers?”

  Nick and I both chuckled.

  “There is hardly anyone here; women seem to be particularly missing so you guys have a clear advantage.”

  Numbers was a game Stacey and I invented our freshman year. We only ever played it between the three of us and the rules were pretty straightforward: try to get as many numbers as possible. The three of us would usually separate into different corners of a bar or a party and talk to random strangers – appearance, status, and sometimes even gender did not factor into it – and try to get their numbers. In order to avoid cheating, the second part of the game happened the next day. Nick, Stacey and I would exchange the numbers we had managed to get and then call each one on the list. Nick would call the men, us the women. Then we would be like, “Is this Sally?” to make sure that it was the right person and we weren’t just making it up. When the person responded “yes”, we’d just
make up a fake last name, apologize for calling the wrong number, then put a check mark next to the person. Whoever had the highest count of verified numbers would then be treated to brunch by the other two, and brunch was usually spent laughing about all the tactics and victims involved in the game.

  It was fun, but Nick was right, this wasn’t the ideal venue to play the game. We would need a bigger crowd.

  “Well, it shouldn’t be a problem anymore,” Stacey said, pointing towards the door. A large crowd that appeared to be celebrating a birthday party walked in. There were at least forty men and women who seemed to be in their early twenties, wearing goofy hats. The birthday girl was easily identifiable by her glistening tiara and a pink sachet that said “Happy Birthday, Brianna!”

  “And I’ll make you a deal, Nick,” Stacey said. “Double points for Brianna’s number.”

  I was starting to get excited in spite of myself. This game was always fun and brunch with the roomies the next morning even more so. I could use some harmless flirting with a bunch of guys.

  And then it hit me: I wasn’t allowed to be harmlessly flirting. Not even for the game. Zayden Sinclair and his crazy contract.

  “Guys, I’m sorry to be a party pooper, but I can’t,” I said, frowning at the menu the waitress had brought me.

  “Don’t be silly, Aria, of course you can,” Nick said, eyeing Brianna as though mentally weighing how difficult it would be to get her number.

  “No, I can’t,” I shook my head. “Not in a dramatic, crappy mood kind of a way. Not like I don’t want to. I really, truly, legally can’t.”

  Stacey squinted her eyes. “What do you mean?” When I didn’t respond for a while, she said more sternly, “Aria? What do you mean legally?”

  “Can we please talk about it tomorrow? I just… I am glad to be out here with you guys and want to try and enjoy my evening. I’ll tell you all about it, I promise,” I said, looking at Stacey, then Nick coughed. “You too, Nick. Brunch tomorrow. I’ll tell you everything. For now though, three shots of tequila?”

  “I’ve waited all day to hear those words,” Stacy said, dumping her head onto the table dramatically.