Stingray Billionaire: The Complete Series (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) (60 page)

CHAPTER
SIXTEEN

Lexi

Max
unlocked the
store and we got right to work placing all of the jewelry in its spots. He had
an eye for detail and knew exactly where everything should go in order to
maximize its glitter and shine. We worked in silence at first, but I was
curious about how he'd come to own the shop and, if I was honest, I just wanted
an excuse to look at him, so I began peppering him with questions.

"Did you grow
up in a gem-loving family?" I teased as I pulled a rose- gold filigreed
pendant with a smooth, round amethyst in middle and draped its delicate chain
around one of the display stands.

"No, I did
not," he said as he carefully placed a row of Orthodox cross pendants on a
specially made tray. They were intricately detailed and came with a high price.

"Then, how
did you get into the jewelry business?" I asked. I watched as he set and
reset the pendants until he was satisfied that they were perfectly aligned on
the tray.

"I was
inspired by a need to break free of my family's business and strike out on my
own," he said as he began inserting a series of beautiful solitaires set
in gold into ring holders.

"What's your
family's business?"

"My father runs
a bar over on the West side and my brother works for him," he replied as
he polished each ring until it reflected prisms back out into the room.

"What about
your mother?" I asked. "What does she do?"

"
Stoyaa
," Max said and looked away.

"Oh, gosh,
I'm sorry. I didn't mean to go somewhere you didn't want to talk about." I
quickly looked down and focused on polishing the necklaces I was getting ready
to hang from the display.

"That's why
it's good we have a word to say when it's enough," he smiled a little and
went back to polishing the rings. I didn't know what to say to that, so I
remained quiet until he spoke again. "What about you? Why are you an
actress?"

"Oh gosh, I
think it's probably because I have been a ham since I was in diapers," I
laughed. "But seriously, I couldn't imagine doing anything else. It was
like once I got the acting bug, everything else ceased to exist. I majored in
Literature in college only because I thought that it would be a good thing to
fall back on just in case I couldn't make the acting work right away. At least,
I could write."

"And , how's
that working out for you?" he asked.

"Well, I'm
here, aren't I?" I said as I went back to hanging necklaces. As we worked
along the cases, we moved closer to each other until he was working on the case
next to the one I was at and was so close that I could feel the heat radiating
off of his body. I bit my tongue to keep from making any improper noises and
inhaled the scent of his cologne. So far, I'd only seen him wearing a suit, but
he filled out a suit very nicely. I just wished I could check out what was
underneath that suit.

"So, you're
acting in theater productions, too?" he asked. I'd been so intent on
imagining him out of his suit that I hadn't been paying attention, so when he spoke,
I jumped a little. He turned toward me with a concerned look on his face,
"You okay over there?"

"Yes, fine,
thanks," I nodded. "What was the question?"

"I asked if
you're in any theater productions," he replied with a small smile. I
wondered if he knew what effect he was having on me, and if he did, if he was
taking pleasure in the fact that he'd thrown me off kilter.

"Not right
now, no," I said. "But I've got an audition later this week and I
feel hopeful that I can land the part."

"What is the
play?"

"Hedda
Gabbler," I replied and heard him swear under his breath. "Why, don't
you like it?"

"What is it
about this city?" he blurted out. "Why is it so absolutely obsessed
with Ibsen? Ibsen, Ibsen, Ibsen. It seems like every damn play in the city is
an Ibsen play!"

"No, please,
tell me how you actually fee about Ibsen," I said dryly. Max looked over
at me and burst into laughter.

"Touché,"
he said through his laughter. "I don't hate Ibsen, I just seem to see a
lot of it. You know how there might be a certain food you really like, but then
everyone thinks that's your favorite food so they make it all the time and feed
it to you?"

"Okay?"

"That's how I
feel about Ibsen," he sighed. "Full."

"I can see
how you'd feel that way," I nodded. During his outburst, he'd moved
closer, and now, I could feel the warmth radiating off of his body, making my
skin tingle. I had been noticing his hands as he plucked the jeweled pieces
from their padded boxes and then carefully placed them where they belonged.
There was something about his long, elegant fingers that made me wonder how
they'd feel tracing a path across my naked body. I shivered.

"Are you
cold?" he asked. "I can turn down the air if you're too cold."

"No, I'm…I'm
fine," I said as I swallowed hard and tried to focus my thoughts on the
pieces I was working with. They were lovely rings made of aquamarine, amethyst,
and citrine, and each of them shined like the sun under the bright lights once
I'd wiped away all human fingerprints.

"Okay, if
you're sure," he said watching me closely. I nodded and continued working.

"How did you
learn Russian?" I asked as I turned toward him and leaned on the glass
case.

"My parents
and grandparents spoke it," he replied not looking up.

"Are they
from Russia?"

"Yes,
Moscow," he said tersely.

"You sound
like you want to say
stoyaa
," I
observed as I watched him diligently polish the piece of jewelry in his hand.

"I would, but
you're not asking anything I can't answer."

I could see the
muscles in his jaw tensing and releasing as he talked. I knew something was
stressing him out, but I didn't think it was wise to push the questions at this
stage of the game.

"What's your
favorite color?" I said as I changed the topic completely and gave Max a
rest from my questions.

"What? Oh, blue,
I've always loved cornflower blue," he said. "It reminds me of the
dishes in my Babi's kitchen when I was a kid."

"Bobby? Who's
Bobby?" I asked. "An ex-girlfriend?"

"No, Babi,
B-A-B-I" he laughed as he spelled it out for me. "It's short for
Babushka, my grandmother. She lives up off of Devon and still cooks every
weekend. If you're lucky, I'll bring back leftovers from her Sunday dinner
while your have your run here."

"Ha ha, very
funny," I said. "We both know that this is a straight up sales job
passing as some kind of acting experience. Anyway, it sounds like Babi is quite
a cook."

"She's the
best cook ever. Last week, she made me fish soup that was out of this
world."

"Now, in my
family that would have been punishment," I said dryly. "I did not
know anyone actually ate fish soup."

"Oh man, it's
delicious," he said and then went on to describe the recipe and how to
make it. When he was done, I looked up at him for a moment and felt my heart
twist a little in my chest. His eyes were light and clear and he had a smile
that stretched across his cheeks and lit up his entire face. He looked more
than handsome, and I couldn't take my eyes off of him.

Over in my bag, my
phone began demanding attention as Josh's ring tone played, stopped, and then
played again. I had no desire to talk to the weasel, but I knew that if I
didn't, he'd keep calling until I answered.

"Excuse me
for a moment?" I asked. Max nodded and I grabbed my phone and headed
toward the front door.

"What?"
I hissed as I answered it.

"Heya, Sugar,
how's is hanging?" Josh's smooth voice flowed through the phone and
carried me back to the Jamaican beach. I could feel the ache flowing through my
body for a brief moment before I shook my head and reminded myself that he'd
abandoned me for a job in LA.

"Don't call
me that, you know I hate it," I said in a dead tone. "What do you
want?"

"Why are you
so mad, Lexi?" Josh said in a sticky sweet voice. "I miss you, baby.
I just wanted to call and check on you to see how you're doing."

"Give me a
break, you didn't call to check on me, you want something," I shot back.
"What do you want?"

"Well, I
could use a little help with the expenses out here. I didn't realize just how
expensive headshots were going to be, babe!"

"You're a
piece of work, Josh," I laughed. "You dump me, leave me with the
apartment, and move to LA all in one day, and then when things are going a
little rough in your fantasy, you call me and ask if I can bail you out? You've
got to be kidding me!"

"Jeez, Lex,
if you can't help, then all you have to do is say so," he pouted.
"You don't have to be so mean about it. Don't you know that I still love
you?"

"Josh, you
are the biggest piece of shit on earth," I said. "If you were on fire
in the middle of Michigan Avenue, I wouldn't step off the curb to piss on you,
let alone actually help you up. You can go to hell."

"Fine, if
you're going to be a total bitch about this, then I'm sorry I called!" he
yelled before he disconnected.

"That son of
a bitch," I muttered as I walked back to the display case where Max was
finishing up one of the final arrangements of gold pendants. "Call and ask
me for help, will he? That'll be the day!"

"Not good
news I take it?" Max asked as I walked behind the cases and put my phone
back in my bag.

"
Stoya,"
I said, giving him a
warning look.

"Understood,"
he nodded and continued to work.

We worked in
silence for the next hour, and by the time five o'clock rolled around, we'd
turned the store into a glittering display of some of the most gorgeous jewelry
I'd ever seen. Max had a great eye when it came to color and design, and I knew
that much of what he'd bought would be sold out almost immediately. Most of the
pieces were one of a kind, so any woman who wore a ring or necklace from M.
Malin could rest assured that no other woman in the city would have purchased
the same ring, unless she'd gone directly to Moscow to buy it.

After Max
pronounced the showroom ready for our big opening the next day, I nodded,
grabbed my bag and headed for the door.

"Hey, Lexi,
you're welcome to have my driver take you home," he said in a voice that
told me he was sorry I was having a rough time.

"Thanks,"
I said over my shoulder. "But today, I think I'd rather walk home. I'll
see you in the morning. Bright and early."

With that, I
walked out the door and headed for home, cursing Josh every step of the way.

CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN

Max

After
Lexi left for the day, I walked to the window and looked out onto Wabash. The
traffic was bumper to bumper as people rushed to get out of town and back to
the suburbs. I shook my head and wondered how anyone could live away from the
city. Lost in thought, I walked over to the set of display cabinets and
straightened a few pieces.

Working with Lexi
put me on edge. The closer I got to her, the more I wanted to reach out and
touch her soft skin. I tried to imagine her out of the clinging dress and found
myself breathing heavily as I imagined releasing her generous breasts from the
confines of her bra and bending down to run my tongue over her nipples. I
closed my eyes and imagined how she would look spread out on my bed, looking up
at me with her amber eyes, her hair spread out across the pillows as I-

"Hey,
zhopa!"
Kristov yelled as he
entered the store and pushed aside my very vivid fantasy. He smelled of whisky
and cigars, and I knew from the moment he opened his mouth that he was high on
something. "What's happening,
bratik
?"

"Don't call
me that; you know I hate it," I said in a cool voice.

"Aw, c'mon,
your big brother travels all the way across town to celebrate the opening of
your store and you're going to insult him?" Kristov pouted as he walked
around the showroom checking out the displays. "This is some nice stuff
you've got here, Maksim."

"Don't even
think about it, Kristov," I warned.

"Think about
what?" he asked with feigned look of innocence.

"I don't
know, staging a robbery or a fire or whatever you do when you want to get
insurance money instead of earning some cash," I said. I knew I was being
unfair, but I also knew that he'd been sent to collect me and bring me back
into the fold and that if I didn't set my limits now, I'd be a goner. He had a
way of convincing people to do whatever it was he wanted them to do, and my
whole life, I'd been his obedient and worshipping little brother – but not
anymore.

"Oh, Max, now
that's a low blow to your older brother who has done nothing but look out for
you his whole life," he said as he stuck out his lip. "I'm just here
to celebrate your success!"

"Bullshit.
Papa sent you and you're here pull me in and take me back to Ursus, where I'll
help you run the West Side business," I said matter-of-factly. "I'm
not falling for this, Kristov. Papa gave me three months to make this work, and
I'm going to do everything I can to make that happen."

"So, little
brother has grown a spine, I see," he nodded approvingly. "You want
to prove yourself. You want to make your own way. How noble of you. How very
fucking noble,
bratik
."

He moved across
the sales floor until he was standing less than a foot in front of me. Kristov
had the solid, strong body of our father, whereas I had inherited our mother's
long, lean looks. He was more brutal and less forgiving, and he carried no
guilt about anything he'd done or would be willing to do to defend the family
business. Sometimes, I wondered how it was that two brothers could be so
different and yet so connected. Kristov had been the one who'd broken the news
to me about Mama, and he'd been the one who had taken care of the arrangements
for her. He'd never once cried in my presence, even when I broke down and
sobbed like a child.

Kristov was the
strong one. He was
vory v zakone
to
the core, but he didn't have the ability to finesse situations. Instead, my
brother moved in like a bull in a china shop and did whatever was necessary to
get what he wanted or needed. I could see why Papa wanted us to be a team. I
had no inclination to be like Kristov, and he had no desire to be like me.

"You need to
settle this business and come home," he said in tone that bordered on
menacing. "Papa needs you. We need you. This war is getting out of hand
and we need someone who is smart enough to figure out how to get the young ones
in line. I'm not it, Max. I know it. I'm the muscle. You're the brains."

"I don't want
to live that life, Kristov," I said as I looked at my brother closely. He
was in his mid-thirties and he looked much older. His nose was crooked from
taking one to many punches, and he had a long scar running along the right side
of his face where a drunken
bratán
had sliced his skin during a bar fight. He looked tired. "I don't want to
live in the back room of the bar and I definitely don't want to die in the
streets. I want out. I want a normal life away from all of the violence and the
hiding. Don't you want that, too?"

"I want to do
what is necessary for the family, Max," he said wearily as he rubbed his
forehead with a large callused hand in a way that reminded me of my father.
"I just want to do what I'm supposed to do and be a captain. I don't want
to go to prison, and I won't ever kneel for anyone." He pulled the leg of
his pants up and showed me the star that had recently been tattooed on his
knee.

"You got your
stars, Kristov," I said trying to sound happy for him. "That's a huge
honor. Did you get all of them?"

"No, that's the
thing," he said looking at me. "I won't get all of my stars until you
get yours."

"He's holding
back your stars until you bring me home?" I said, aghast with the
realization of what this meant. Getting stars meant you were a true
vory v zakone
. It meant that you were a
captain who commanded the men under you. When stars were tattooed on the knees,
it meant that the man being tattooed was his own man, that he would never kneel
for anyone. But stars had to be given by the head of the organization — in this
case, Papa.

"Yep, that's
exactly what he's doing," my brother said. "He's holding me hostage
until I can get you back in the fold."

"Fuck!"
I shouted as I slammed my hand down on the display case. Everything inside
tipped over and jewelry spilled everywhere. "That's not right! He can't do
that to you! He can't do that to me!"

"He can do
whatever he wants,
bratik
," he
said, shaking his head slowly. "He's the boss."

I stood staring
out the front window with my fists clenched by my sides as I thought about how
my father's promise to let me see if this business could be a success had been
a lie designed to placate me when he knew that he was going to blackmail me
back into the fold. I felt he rage boiling up under the surface.

"Don't,
Max," my brother said as he gripped my shoulder. "Just don't."

I looked at my
brother helplessly and realized that his life now depended on me, and the
decisions I would make. My father was ruthless when it came to protecting the
business and we were just the price he would pay to take care of things. I
reached out and gripped Kristov's shoulders and looked him in the eye as I
said, "I won't allow this to happen."

"You may not
have a choice," he replied with a grin that chilled my heart.