Billionaire's Tragedy (Standalone Book) (Billionaire Bad Boy Romance) (25 page)

CHAPTER
THIRTY-NINE

Linc

As
I stood at the
edge of the empty reflecting pool waiting for Olivia to show up, I thought
about what I was about to do. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind of
anxiety and uncertainty, but in a way, it had helped me clarify everything. I
had teetered on the brink of financial ruin and had realized that none of it
really mattered. I had every advantage in the world, but I hadn't really
enjoyed it – until now.

I looked up and saw
Olivia walking toward me. Her flaming red hair was tucked under a wool cap, but
pieces escaped and were blowing around her face like thin wisps of smoke. She
walked toward me with a furrowed brow and her hands shoved deep in the pockets
of her army coat. She was stubborn and defensive, but there was something about
her I simply couldn't resist. When she saw me, her face brightened and a smile
spread across her lips.

"Redding, what
were you
thinking ordering me out here on a cold day like
this?" she called as she quickly walked over to meet me.

"I needed to see
you," I smiled.

"And you couldn't
have picked some place with heat?" she teased.

"Well, I can always
fill the gap," I said as I reached out and pulled her to me. She wrapped
her arms around my waist as she looked up at me. Her emerald eyes were bright
and I couldn't help but lean down and kiss her.

"What is going
on?"

"I needed to see
you," I repeated.
 

I lifted my hand and
pushed the hair away from her face as I bent forward and spoke softly into her
ear.

"You've changed me,
Olivia Moore," I said. "You've gotten under my skin."

"Yeah, I do that to
a lot of people," she chuckled softly.

"I'm not
kidding," I said as I pulled back so I could look at her face. She was
looking up at me with concern. "I don't know where we're headed, and I
can't promise anything for sure, but I can tell you right now that there's
something about you that has gotten to me. It's as if you're inside of me and I
can't shed you."

Surprise replaced the
concern on her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it again
without saying anything. I bent down and kissed her cheek as I continued
speaking.

"I knew it from the
moment I first saw you – there was something about you that was different,
special," I said. "True, you are stubborn and willful, but I like
that about you.
It's
part of your charm, and it's a
powerful aphrodisiac, honestly."

"You're
insane," she said, shaking her head. "You can't know this about me,
you don't know me. It's too soon. You don't know anything about me!"

"Oh, I know you
better than you think, Olivia," I chucked softly.

"Now you're claiming
that you know me better than I think you do?" she said as she pulled back
and I felt the walls going up. "You can't know me that well. Don't forget,
we just met, Redding."

"Ah, there it
is!" I said as I let go. She didn't move away, though. "The strong,
independent woman who doesn't need anyone, but who is crying out to be
needed."

"What the hell is
wrong with you?" she said as I watched the struggle flash across her face.
I wanted to reach out and pull her to me, but I knew that if I did, I'd be
giving her the reason she needed to back away. I knew this decision had to be
hers and hers alone. I could only make the offer and be honest about what I was
feeling. Olivia would have to walk the rest of the way on her own. The question
was whether she would.

"Olivia, there's
nothing wrong with me. I want you, and I'm not ashamed to admit it," I
said as I looked into her eyes. She inhaled sharply and I could feel her
fighting the urge to shove me away. "I want you. I know you want me, too,
but are you willing to give in and let it happen?"

"I...how...I..."
she stammered as I waited patiently, then looking down at the ground, she
whispered softly, "I don't know what to do."

I raised my hand and
lifted her chin up to brush the hair away from her face, all the while smiling
warmly before I leaned down and kissed her softly, whispering into her lips,
"You don't have to know, just let it happen."

She rested her palms on
my chest as she looked up at me, and said, "I need some time to think
about this."

I felt the air leaving my
lungs as she spoke. I hadn't planned for this response. I'd imagined that she'd
be looking up at me with a smile and telling me that while she was wary or
defensive, she was willing to try. I had expected her to melt into my arms and
that we'd have a happily ever after – or at least happy for now – ending to
this wild ride. I had not anticipated that perhaps she wasn't on board with the
developments or that she didn't feel the same way I did. It stung.

"I see," I
nodded.

"Are you mad?"
she asked hesitantly.

"No, I'm
just...surprised," I said forcing a smile. "But I understand."

"Do you
really?"

"No, not really, but
I'm trying," I admitted.

"Well, at least you’re
honest about it," she said as she looked up at me and offered a small
smile. "I'm not saying no, Linc; I'm just saying that a lot has happened
over the past few weeks and I need some time to think about what I want."

"I get it," I
nodded. I wanted to try and convince her of all the reasons why she should
believe me and choose me, but I also knew that if I pushed her, I'd run the
risk of pushing her away rather than drawing her closer. "When do you
think you'll know what it is you want?"

"I don't know, a
couple of days, maybe?"

"Okay, then I'll
give you the space you need to make the best decision," I nodded. I
stepped back and put some distance between us. My chest ached as I bent down
and softly kissed her cheek before I turned and walked down the Mall.

I wanted to turn back and
look at her, but I couldn't bear the thought that it might be the last time I
saw her.

CHAPTER
FORTY

Olivia

After
Linc had walked
away and I was sure he wasn't coming back, I sunk to my knees and tried to
breathe deeply in order to calm the panic I felt. Once I had subdued it enough
to talk, I called Bix and told her I needed her help. She immediately knew
something was up and told me to take a cab to the house.

Twenty minutes later, I
was walking up to her house when the door swung open. Bix stood in the doorway
looking at me sympathetically, which loosened everything I had held inside, and
before she could close the door behind me, I let the tears flow. She grabbed me
and held me tightly as I cried. It was as if a floodgate had been opened and
everything that had happened to me in the past year was being released. I cried
on her shoulder as she patted my head and whispered, "
It's
okay, just let it all out."

Once the worst of it had
passed, Bix took me into the kitchen and sat me down at the table. She'd made
tea and had a plate of fresh gingerbread men sitting next to the teapot.

"Eat a cookie,
you'll feel better," she urged. "Diana swears they have magic healing
powers."

"Well, if it's your
baking, she might be right," I chuckled as I bit into one.

"What's going on,
Liv?" she asked. "I mean, aside from the obvious release of emotion
left over from Africa."

"If I tell you,
you'll think I'm crazy."

"I think that
anyway, so tell me," she grinned. I laughed out loud. Only Bix could make
crazy feel normal.

"Frank offered me a
permanent position on the Political beat," I said.

"That's great!"

"I don't know, is
it?"

"What's wrong with a
permanent position?"

"It feels
so...permanent," I said as I took another bite of the cookie while Bix
poured us both a steaming hot cup of tea, adding milk and sugar in mine.

"Um, that's the
point, is it not?" she asked.

"I'm not sure I want
to stay here, Bix," I admitted. A pained look briefly crossed her face,
and I knew I'd unintentionally hit a nerve. Bix looked out the window as she
sipped her tea. It was a long time before she spoke again, and knowing her as
well as I did, I just waited.

"Why are you so hell
bent on running, Liv?" she asked quietly. I'd known the question was
coming, but hearing it out loud startled me.

"I'm not running,
Bix," I said.

"The hell you
aren't," she snapped, and I heard the pain in her voice. "You've been
running for years. And every time you run, you are forced to start over in a
whole new place with a whole new group of people who..."

"Who what?" I
asked in a quiet voice.

"Who love you!"
she cried. "I thought I had my best friend back in my life, and now you're
talking about moving on to a new place and new people. And what about Linc?
Have you thought about him at all?"

"I have,” I said. I
wanted to tell Bix about what he'd said, but I was afraid that if I did, she'd tell
me exactly what I didn't want to hear.

"That man loves you,
Liv," she said. "It's so obvious that he's head over heels in love
with you, and yet you dart around doing your usual thing and ignoring the
facts! How can you be such a diligent reporter and such a negligent human
being?"

"Wow, that's harsh,
even for you," I said as I looked away.

"I'm sorry, Liv, but
sometimes the truth hurts," she muttered into her teacup.

"Bix, I don't know
what it means to stay," I blurted out. "I've been on the move for so
long that I don't know how to stay anywhere. It's not comfortable and I get
itchy to be somewhere else. I have to go or I feel trapped. I don't know how to
stop, and I don't know if I want to."

"Well, admitting you
have a problem is the first step towards solving it," she said as she
leaned over and pulled a pen and pad of paper off the counter and handed it to
me. "Make a list of the reasons you should stay and the reasons you should
go, then we'll compare the two and see which one makes more logical
sense."

"Bix, this isn't a
list-making process," I smiled. "But thank you for trying to come up
with a solution to the problem."

"Then how are you
going to make the decision, Liv?"

I set my cup in its
saucer and stood up. Bix rose out of her chair and stood facing me with a grim
look. "How are you going to decide, Liv?" she repeated.

"I love you,
Bix," I said as I hugged her tightly. "But I think I already
have."

CHAPTER
FORTY-ONE

Epilogue

"
By
the powers vested in me by the District of
Columbia, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!"
the judge said as the room erupted in shouts and cheers. I turned slightly to
look over Mo's shoulder and saw Linc looking at me with a warm smile as Brant
pulled his new bride to him and kissed her deeply.

It had been a rough
couple of months as they'd straightened out the new contract with the Chinese
manufacturers and I knew that Linc had been feeling the strain of traveling so
much. Brant had been with him as the negotiated the terms and signed the final
contracts, so the wedding planning had been left up to Mo and she'd enlisted me
as backup.

She and I had spent many
afternoons shopping for a dress and I'd finally begged Bix to come with us. It
was no accident that she had dragged us to Murphy's Bridal and had Mo try on
dress after dress as Bix examined each one and finally declared a dove gray
Armani the one. And looking at Mo standing next to Brant, who'd been decked out
in a custom-fitted Gucci suit, I knew that Bix had been right. They made a
lovely couple and they were madly in love.

I looked back across the
room and saw Linc coming toward me through the crowd of people who were pushing
forward to wish the couple the best. His smile was one that I recognized as the
one he wore when he had something important to tell me.

I'd first seen it the
afternoon he'd declared his intentions at the reflecting pool, and it had taken
months of effort on my part to coax it out again after I'd walked away saying
I'd needed time to think. My talk with Bix had made me rethink my need to run,
but it had been several days before I'd been able to tell Linc what I was
feeling.

First, I had to go to
Frank and accept his job offer. It was a tough conversation, but I'd negotiated
the right to be able to take on additional international work so that I could
satisfy my need to be on the move. Frank had been wounded by my initial
reticence because he'd had to fight a battle with the paper's owner to keep me,
but in the end, we patched things up when I agreed to stay.

Making peace with Linc had
proved more difficult. When I'd walked away from him at the reflecting pool,
he'd assumed that that was it, so he'd rebuilt his own defenses. When I'd shown
up at his office to tell him that I was staying in Washington, he responded in
typical wounded male fashion and simply nodded. It had taken me pulling out the
stops in the feminine wiles department – and a little bit of daytime office sex
– to heal the wound and give him a reason to believe me.

"That was a
beautiful ceremony," I said, smiling up into his warm blue eyes. He was
wearing a suit that matched Brant's and it highlighted his broad shoulders and
chest. I had the sudden urge to pull him into the judge's private chambers.

"It was, wasn't
it?" he said as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close and
whispered, "You look lovely, Liv."

"You clean up pretty
good yourself, Redding." I smiled as he kissed me.

"I've been thinking,"
he said as he brushed a stray strand of hair away from my face.

"That's
dangerous," I grinned.

"I'm serious,
Liv," he said as he brushed his fingers along my jaw and then bent to kiss
along the path. "I've been thinking about a lot of things, and I want us
to make some plans."

"Okay, what
kind?" I asked. "I don't think Frank is going to give me a lot of
vacation time yet, but if we could combine it with one of my assignments, I
could probably swing a foreign trip."

"Well, I was
thinking of something a little more permanent," he said as he caressed my
cheek.

"I'm not packing up
and moving again, Redding!" I quickly protested and then noticed that my
voice carried out into the now quiet room. I turned to see the wedding guests
all staring at Linc and I, then turned back and found him down on one knee in
front of me holding up a small box.

"I'm thinking more
along the lines of you agreeing to marry me, Olivia," he said with a wide
smile as he offered up the ring. "Will you marry me, Olivia Moore? Will
you be my wife?"

"I'm sorry,
what?" I shook my head to make sure I wasn't hallucinating.

"I told you this is
what would happen," came a voice out of the crowd.

"Will you marry me,
Olivia Moore?" Linc repeated patiently. "Will you spend the rest of
your life annoying me, frustrating me, and letting me love you more than anyone
has ever or will ever love you?"

"Well, now you're
talking!" I smiled as I leaned down and kissed his lips. "Yes,
Lincoln Redding, I'll marry you."

The whole room erupted in
cheers as Linc stood and slipped the exquisite ring on my finger before pulling
me into his arms and kissed me deeply. I wrapped my arms around his neck and
kissed him back as I whispered, "I love you, Lincoln Redding."

"I love you, too,
Olivia Moore," he smiled as he held me close and kissed me again.

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BILLIONAIRE’S
TRUST

By
Alexa Davis

This
book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are
products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not
to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual
events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Copyright
© 2016 Alexa Davis

From
the Author

I hope you enjoy Billionaire’s Trust.
If you want to get
an email as soon as my next book is published then click here
.
I’ll also include you in all the giveaways I do automatically.

Get my never
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Tempting
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CHAPTER
ONE

Dax

"
What
the hell is wrong with you, Beck?" I
yelled. "You fuck up everything you lay your hands on!"

"Aww, c'mon,
Dax," he said with a hangdog look. "I didn't do it on purpose. It's
not that big of a deal, only a couple of ounces got lost."

"Lost my
ass," I said as I rubbed my eyes and then looked at him. "Beck, I
don't care if you are my fucking brother, if you don't get your shit straight
and run your business right, I'm gonna fuckin' kill you."

"Dax, it's
not my fault," he whined. "I sold the stuff the way you told me, it's
just that your connection shorted me on the buy."

"Bullshit,"
I said. "He's never once shorted me before. This is your fuck up and your
fuck up alone. Get your shit straight, Beck, or I'm gonna have to do something
you're not gonna like."

"Fine,
whatever," he said as he turned and walked across the empty floor. He
stopped before he got to the door and turned to look at me as he spoke.
"You're not always going to be on top, you know, big brother. Someday,
someone is going to come along and knock you off your throne and then where
will you be, huh?"

"Let them
try," I said as I held his gaze. He looked away first and then shoved the
door open with a loud bang before walking out into the street.

I turned to the
figure sitting in the shadows and said, "Keep an eye on him, Riza. He's
gonna fuck things up for all of us, I just know it."

"Don't be too
hard on him, boss," she said as she stood up and stretched. "He's
young and wants to impress you."

"That may be,
but I'm not going to risk the entire business for his growth opportunity,"
I said. My younger brother was a Class A screw up and had been his entire life.
It wasn't entirely his fault.

We'd spent the
first years of our lives in a violent home before my father, a failed inventor,
shot my mother, a financial analyst, and himself and left us orphans. We'd been
placed with my father's mother, an Irish woman who ran a grocery store on San
Pedro and lived in a shack behind the store. We didn't know it at the time, but
she was in the early stages of dementia and often left the store closed up and
us to fend for ourselves while she wandered out into the streets on Skid Row
looking for a way back to her hometown of Dublin.

When she was home,
it was obvious why my father had ended up the way he had and why we rarely saw
my grandmother while he was still alive. She held the firm belief that children
who were heard rather than seen should be severely punished in ways that would
have horrified even the toughest disciplinarian. Gram hated Beck and often
punished him for minor infractions that I was allowed to get away with.
Needless to say, I looked forward to the days when she'd disappear and leave us
on our own. They were a respite from the torment and abuse.

With no one to
check up on us, I quickly got used to being the protector and provider. We
didn't really have to struggle much, since my grandmother was well connected in
the neighborhood and people looked out for us, but it took awhile for Beck and
I to figure out the system. By the time my parents died, we were living in an
abandoned house that had no running water or electricity. The switch to the
Grand brought us into a different world that was more consistent in many ways,
but still left us on our own for long stretches of time.

Gram had little
interest in us, aside from ordering us to stock shelves or haul boxes into the
storage area from the truck that arrived every Monday. She didn't bother to buy
us any clothes or toys or even register us for school.

I had to figure
all of that out on my own.

We moved in with
my grandmother when I was ten and Beck was eight. By the end of the first week,
I knew which neighbors would feed us without asking questions and which ones
were inclined to call nosy social workers. I learned to call Elsa, the woman
who ran the liquor store on the corner of 6
^th
Street and who knew my
grandmother the best, and let her know that Gram was gone again. Elsa was the
one who helped me order clothing for Beck and I and register us both for
school. I quickly became wheeler-dealer and, as a result, I was able to
maintain a good front and keep people from asking too many questions, despite
the oddness of our living situation.

Beck was too young
to know just how strange our situation was, but he quickly learned to follow my
lead and do as I told him. He knew that not following directions would often
lead to something terrible, so he became both cautious and reckless in the way
he behaved. At home, he was a silent child who hid in the storage room or a
closet to avoid the wrath of Gram, but at school, he was a hellion who refused
to follow the rules or even stay in his seat. On more than one occasion, I'd
been called out of class to go to Beck's classroom and deal with his
misbehavior, since I was the only one he'd listen to. It was exhausting caring
for both of us, but I didn't see any other option. So I shouldered the burden and
did the best I could to ensure that we were fed, clothed, and had a roof over
our heads.

 
By the time I was twelve, I was playing dice
with the neighborhood hustlers in back alleys. They taught me about smoking,
drugs, drinking, and what little they knew about women. As a result, I never
touched the first two, but the last two, well, I always say I've never met a
drink I wouldn't sip and a woman I couldn't enjoy. The problem was that I also
learned not to trust anyone.

Except for Riza.
I'd met her on the streets when we were twelve, and she'd quickly decided I was
her best friend. She was taller than most of the boys in our neighborhood and
her exotic looks, thanks to her Honduran father and Moroccan mother, gave her
face a mysterious look of danger. It also helped that her father was a known
drug lord during the ’70s and had a reputation for "disappearing"
anyone who dared cheat or disagree with him. Riza was his pride and joy, and
since I was her best friend, he trusted me.

"Hey, boss,
you want me to take the car and follow the kid?" she asked. "I can
tail him tonight, if you want. The next shipment isn't scheduled till Tuesday,
so I've got some down time."

"You sure you
want to do that?" I replied.

"Yeah, sure,
why not? I've got the time. Why not nip it in the bud now and bring him to
heel?"

"Alright. If
you're up for it, then do what you can," I said as I walked behind the
bar, filled a glass with ice, and then hit it with a shot of soda water. I had
a meeting coming up later and I needed a clear head. "But don't let him
know you're following him. He'll lose his shit and then I'll have to deal with
it, and I don't have time to deal with a Beck meltdown this week. Clear?"