Mr. Grayson: Billionaires’ Club Book 4 (Billionaires’ Club Series)

The funeral services were beyond lovely. Kind words were spoken about Alex’s mother, and I felt nothing but sorrow for the man sitting stiffly at my side. He was undeniably an outsider here even though this was his mother, and he’d funded the entire thing.

It was bullshit that he had to grieve her death on top of people eyeing him weirdly for whatever reason. I simply ignored the staring. Alex was dressed like the billion-dollar man he was, and it was evident that it was making him a target. He presented himself intimidatingly, his dark gaze set solely on the casket throughout the entire service, and he looked like the most important, influential person in the room.

I lifted my chin, held onto his forearm while he clasped his hands together in his lap, and I wondered where it would go from here. When Alex’s knuckles grew white, and his forearm tightened, that’s when I deduced who his father was—the short, white-haired man with the flushed face walking to the front of the room in a dark suit was Paul O’Connor.

Apparently, O’Connor was Alex’s surname at birth, and it only took me insisting I join him at his mother’s funeral to get that tiny bit of info. There was so much information from his past that he kept from me, and yet he wanted me to do a backflip of love into marriage.

His actions at the cemetery earlier today didn’t make me feel better about how things had been going since he found out about his mother either. I knew he was going through something beyond grief. I knew grief all too well, and this was much more than that. Whatever was bothering him was much bigger than he was saying, and that bothered me most. I didn’t know what he was dealing with, and the fact that he still wouldn’t open up to me at such a time concerned me because there was no way I could support him if he were entirely closed off.

Maybe I was wrong about everything. It sure as hell didn’t look like we were in friendly territory, so I figured it would be best to wait and see how everything played out.

Younger people our age in attendance expressed their sympathies to a cold and indifferent Alex, and I could sense they were pretty shocked to see him in town again. One woman couldn’t remove her eyes from him, but we were in his hometown, so it was probably an ex-girlfriend or something. I didn’t blame her for being captivated by the guy and studying me skeptically. Even at a funeral, he was the hottest guy in the place.

“Thank you all for attending, those of you who were invited, and those who deemed it necessary to pay their final respects. My wife was a beautiful woman, and the only sweetheart out there who has the ability to bring even the darkest of individuals to see her onto the next life,” he chuckled, but his words seemed to be directed at Alex. “She was with me while I wasn’t a pleasant man. Our children were young, and things were difficult, to say the least, but she remained loyal to her husband over all things—even her children. I felt that from my sweetheart, and I’ll cherish her until I meet her again in heaven.”

“Pack flip-flops, mother fucker. It’s scorching where you’re headed,” Alex seethed under his breath.

“I didn’t expect the donations you all so kindly offered on this day we celebrate her life, but my family thanks you for that. To those who took it upon themselves to prove something to the entire town—arranging this elaborate casket, the thousands of flowers that are here, and of course, the horse-drawn hearse that awaits to carry her to her final resting place—well, none of that mattered to her. She wasn’t a woman who flaunted herself to anyone, and almost everyone in this room knows that. Then again, when you have those who feel guilty,” he sneered and waved his hand over the beautiful casket and floral arrangement lying over the top of it, “well, this is a perfect example of guilt from our greatest donor of all.”

“Please tell me he’s not speaking about you,” I said under my breath so that only Alex could hear.

Alex nodded with a look of death directed at his father, who was making it blatantly obvious that Alex was unwelcome. I tuned out that vile man’s words after that. I completely understood why Alex didn’t want me to see this side of his life now. After witnessing this small portion of the funeral, my heart broke for Alex, and by this point, I knew why the man never spoke of his past.

Alex’s dad was a singularly miserable piece of shit. What kind of person would do something like this to their child, especially at their wife’s funeral? This man couldn’t shut up about how much he loved his wife, and in the same breath, he was hateful beyond belief to his son. All that love sentiment seemed like a crock of shit to me.

I held tightly to Alex’s arm, hoping that the gesture would ease any anger or hurt his dad may have conjured during his speech—or whatever the hell anyone would want to call that disgrace.

After the graveside service, more people than not asked Alex to join them at the luncheon at a local hall in town. I could hear the resistance in Alex’s voice, but he finally conceded.

“We’re here for fifteen minutes tops. I can’t believe any of these people want a reunion,” Alex stated as we walked into an area decorated with tablecloths, centerpieces, and a cafeteria-like buffet.

“Maybe they’re happy to see you again, unlike your mother’s husband.” I was careful not to refer to that man as his father.

“I can hardly remember anyone here,” Alex said, pulling out my chair for me. “That’s the most annoying part. Anyone who I might’ve remembered or considered a friend,” he sat next to me, “have grown up, gotten careers, and moved away. I don’t know why I agreed to this.”

“From what I witnessed, they seem to remember you well. They knew your mother, and they seem to be happy you came for her funeral.” I patted his leg, trying to get his posture to loosen some. “Let’s just play it by ear and see how it goes.”

Alex glanced around at the people filling the room. “The question that can’t be answered is who exactly was my mother to all these people after I left to live with my grandfather? Was she a counselor for every fucking kid I went to school with? It seems those are the only ones who asked me to stay behind for this reception or whatever you call it.”

“If she was a helpful and kind woman in her town, that’s never a bad thing,” I said. “Aside from your dad’s underhanded BS at the funeral, her services were lovely. I understand why you wanted to say your goodbyes.”

“Do me a favor,” Alex turned to me, still solemn and grave, “just stay away from my family. What my father said up there today were only jabs compared to what I know the man really wanted to reveal to the room.”

“And that is?”

“Things I have buried for a reason,” he answered curtly. “And will keep buried.”

Alex’s hand was sweating as it held onto mine under the table. He didn’t want to be here, and that was obvious, but something inside him had broken somewhere between him not sleeping since he learned about his mother’s death and now. For Alex to be convinced to show up at this—or do anything he didn’t want to do aside from closing a business deal—that surprised me. I’d never seen him cave to anything in all the time I’d known him.

Alex called the shots in everything he did, and not even his friends could convince the man to do things he wasn’t down for. It was something I loved about him. He was unwavering, set in his ways, and never one to be spoken down to or persuaded to do something he didn’t want to do.

“Alexander O’Connor,” a young woman said, walking up with her young son, sucking on his fingers. “It’s damn good to see you again.”

Alex’s lips tightened. “I’m having to ask a lot of forgiveness for forgetting people today, it seems,” he said, his hand clenching tightly onto mine like it was a stress ball.

She took one of the six empty seats at our table. “Well, how should you remember me?” She winked at him, friendly and indeed the friendliest face out of the bunch so far. “Look at you,” she smiled at him adoringly. “You grew up, and you look a hell of a lot like Mr. Johnny Depp himself. I would think you moved to California to either be that man’s stunt double, or maybe you are the real—”

“Not to be rude,” Alex said with a pretty damn rude tone in his voice, “but that comparison drives me mad. So, please, if we were friends, I’d rather discuss that instead of movie star comparisons.”

“Well, aren’t you the lucky one?” She looked at me. “Even if Alex wants to ignore the fact that he looks like him, he needs to accept the lucky genes he got that make him comparable to him. I’m assuming you both are an item?”

“This is Breanne,” he offered, and I could tell he was done with the woman.

“Nice to meet you. I don’t think you offered your name, though?” I smiled at her.

“I’m Shannon Dwight.” She looked at Alex, then me. “So, you’re the lucky woman to get this Johnny Depp look-a-like I spent a fun summer with?”

Alex remained highly annoyed, looking away now. I decided I’d answer the poor girl who hadn’t a clue that Alex was rarely in the mood to be compared to the handsome actor, much less while being in this particular situation.

“Unfortunately, I never crushed on that actor,” I tried to lighten Alex’s mood in any way I knew how. This woman was harmless, and he was being a dick. Alex looked at me. “I wish he looked more like…” Fuck, think of a hot actor, Bree. Great, I was stuck. “Burt Reynolds,” I finally said.

Alex unexpectedly grinned and looked over at me. “Burt Reynolds?” He chuckled for the first time in three whole days.

“Smokey and the Bandit?” Shannon said with a fun laugh.

“Yes. There’s something about that mustache.”

Alex looked at me with the funniest expression, and thank God that my random Hollywood hunk name saved the mood. Maybe Alex could have a decent conversation now.

“Well, you’re screwed,” she said to me.

“She’s only turned down my marriage proposal twice now,” Alex smiled at me and draped his arm over the back of my chair. “So, I need a mustache and a shitload of chest hair to get you to marry me finally?”

“You proposed?” the woman interrupted.

“I did. Twice.” He smiled. I could see some relief in his face and over such a silly save too. “Turned down by this beauty, but I now know I’ll be working my ass off to transform my looks into resembling another actor.”

“Is California filled with actors?” she asked.

I eyed her. “You’re kidding, right?”

“She’s not,” Alex said, colder again. “A lot of people assume actors are everywhere in California. Sorry, but I’ve yet to run into the man I’m forever compared to.”

“Changing the subject,” Shannon said. “Why don’t you both join a bunch of us tonight back at my place? You know, I live in the same house where I grew up. The same room even. You might remember me then?”

What the fuck? I thought when Alex frowned.

“We’ll be flying home from here. Thanks for the offer, though.” Alex stood. “I’m going to head across the way, handle the final bill for all of this, and call for the chauffeur to transport our luggage to the plane.” Alex stopped and turned back to me.

“I’m going to grab some hot coffee, and then I’ll wait for you here.”

Alex’s eyes scanned the room while Shannon took Alex’s obvious clues and left. He’d made it clear that he might’ve been a cool guy back when she knew him, but he was not the same.

I walked over to a refreshment table to get coffee for Alex and me to drink in the car on the way to the airport.

“Breanne Stone,” a woman said, shocking me that she knew my first and last name. I turned to recognize Alex’s sister, Jen. All I knew about her was that she was the one who hated Alex after being brainwashed to feel that way by their father.

“Jen? Is that correct?”

“Jennifer Malley,” she said. “I’m Alex’s youngest sister.”

“Very nice to meet you. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Don’t be sorry for me,” she said in a bitchy-tone I wasn’t expecting. “You should watch your back with Alexander, though.”

“Really?” I said, knowing better than to let gossip about Alex poison my mind. “How so?”

“Of course, he hasn’t told you why our family will not accept him anymore.”

“I’ve heard enough stories,” I said.

Her soft red hair looked frazzled under the fluorescent lighting, but her eyes were as beautiful and green as Alex’s, and she stared at me as if she were about to drop the biggest hammer of all time just to fuck with Alex on behalf of her dad. “I’m sure you’ve heard that we’re the horrible people in his life.”

“He doesn’t speak much of any of you. I know about his grandfather, the amazing man who raised him.”

“That man was the devil himself. The only reason he’d take a murderer on like Alex—”

I felt a lump in my throat. “Murderer?” I croaked out.

She smiled, and I could smell the liquor on her breath when she let out a laugh. “Oops. My bad,” she said. “That’s something I suppose he wouldn’t want anyone to know since that would be reason enough to ruin the Grayson family name.”

I could hear the slur in her words, and I didn’t want to give this woman more than I already had.

“Well, let me tell you about Alex,” she continued. “He killed his brother. That’s a hidden gem that no one wants to talk about. But call my father the bad guy, right? Call Paul O’Connor the horrible man who became an alcoholic because one of his sons murdered the other in a jealous rage.” She giggled, and my eyes went to her travel mug that must’ve been filled with hard liquor. “Mother tried to forgive him,” she said with tears in her eyes, “but how do you forgive your rotten son who murdered his twin—the same son who forced your husband to become an alcoholic? Alex was every problem this family didn’t need. And now he’s here to spit on all of us with the wealth he stole from my grandfather after moving in with that old man.”

“I think you’ve said enough. The smell of liquor tells me you’re a bit on the drunk side,” I responded, not knowing what to believe.

“Watch your back, Breanne Stone,” she said, stumbling backward, caught by her father. “You’re with a wealthy man, but he murdered—”

“That’s enough, Jen. You’ll have to excuse my daughter. She’s a little drunk,” Paul said in a mysterious tone. His glossy eyes roamed from my heels to my eyes. “But she is right about one thing. It might be wise of you to keep your distance from Alexander.”

“I’m picking up on that, thanks,” I said, willing Alex to walk back into this room.

“Don’t say we didn’t warn you. That boy has demons and the ones that will come alive when you least expect them. He all but ruined this family,” he said in a deep growl. “But that’s for a better day. A better conversation, I think?”

“Yeah, I think so too,” I said, completely caught off guard and not knowing whether to defend Alex or just shut my mouth at this point.

“Word is already floating around that you plan to marry him?” Paul asked.

“Let’s get out of here, Bree,” Alex said as he rapidly approached me, his tone lethal.

“Why so soon, Alex?” Paul taunted him.

“Because I have no desire to eat food while my mother’s casket is being lowered into that boneyard across town. I’m out. It’ll be the last you ever see or hear from me. I only came to say my farewells to my mother. The arrangements were made courtesy of her father as well. He made me swear on his deathbed that you wouldn’t be the one to put her in the ground. I was here to make sure she was laid to rest with the honor and grace he raised his daughter to carry. Sadly, you tarnished all of that.”

“Funny, isn’t it, Alexander? And why would your Grandfather Grayson want you to be the one to put another of my family members in the ground? You ever think about that while that twisted son of a bitch raised you?”

“Because he knew you would eventually kill her, fucker,” Alex snapped.

“Me, or you?” Paul slurred, obviously as drunk if not more so than his daughter. “Ah, ah, ah.” He waved a finger in front of Alex’s chest. “Old man Grayson knew exactly what he was doing by insisting you were the one to bury my bride.”

“We’re leaving,” Alex grabbed my hand, then turned back. “Keep on drinking, though. That’s always worked out marvelously for you as I remember vividly.”

“Drinking was the only way that took my pain away, you murderer!”

Alex looked at me. “We seriously need to go.”

“I think you’re right. Day drinking at a funeral and screaming murderer to silence a room isn’t my sort of funeral reception.”

“It’s to be expected,” Alex said as we rushed to the exit. “That fucking asshole ruins everything, and he even found a way to spit on my mother’s grave by being drunk at this.”

“Your sister seems like she might be sharing his bottle,” I mentioned once we loaded into the black SUV that Alex had waiting for us out front.

“He ruined Jen’s life a long time ago. Jane would lose her fucking shit if she were part of all of that.”

“Is it true?” I finally asked Alex.

“What?” Alex looked at me as if I were his sister and dad.

“That you murdered your brother?” I said softly.

Alex pulled on his sunglasses. “You’re welcome to go back to your ways of judging me as you did when we first met,” he said.

“I’m not judging you. I’m asking a question.”

“A question put into your mind by two drunks at my mother’s funeral. People who single-handedly picked the only person who put a smile on my face back there even for a moment, and they told her I was a murderer.”

I noted the driver was listening to us, and I had to play this down. “Being drunk at three in the afternoon following the lowering of a casket makes you say the craziest shit, right?”

Alex didn’t smile or move a muscle. He continued to stare straight ahead even though I could hear his phone buzzing and blowing up in his hands. I had no idea what the fuck had just happened. Was he standing at his brother’s gravesite in the cemetery when he acted like I’d caught him doing something he didn’t want me to see?

He wasn’t giving this information up, but I’d be damned if I was going to sit back and let people call him a murderer if it wasn’t true. What was I supposed to think if he wouldn’t talk to me? Hell, I was going to judge his ass if he didn’t start clearing the air.

He was utterly unapproachable. I’d expected him to chill some once we boarded the aircraft, not disappear on the thing, leaving me alone until we landed. At this point, I was left to imagine the worst as I rode the elevator up to my apartment…and Alex was headed home alone.