Billionaire's Baby Angry

Stacey's POV:

I’m in a big ass club for VVIP people with my team. I’m dressed like I usually am in such occasions. No, no cocktail or such dresses, or high heels. I’m in a pair of black leggings, some black leather flat shoes, a tank top which is in a darkish grey, a black blazer tight on my waist and going over my ass with some big golden buttons in a cross on my chest. The blazer is open in front from my waist down to better move in it. My entire outfit embraces my curves as I’m a curvy one, but the one that fires dicks around at my sight. Oh yeah…. Unfortunately for them, I’m not one to take interest in their sex drive. Ha-ha! And yes, forgot, my hands are gloved with a pair of black leather gloves with cut fingers. I’m here to work my ass out…. He, he, he….

My height? Well, I’m 5’38 feet tall. Yeah. My dark honey hair is loose and styled on my left side. It’s wavy and goes over my shoulders, but it’s not long. Single? Yes. Age? 30. Social status? I run a real estate business from my late parents. Single child? No…. I’ve got a 19-year-old pain in my fucking ass baby sister. Raising her on my own since when I was her now age, moment when our parents died in a car accident and blew my life off to an everlasting pain. Yep…. If I’m at least wearing makeup now? Noooo…. Ha-ha! I believe in a natural face. I’ve got nothing to prove to anyone or to attract unwanted attention, though that unwanted attention flies to me like a fucking magnet. Anyways…. Oh yeah, my full name is Stacey Alexander. Forgot about that, too. Ha-ha!

“Stace?” That’s Matt, the one under me in the team, in my earpiece.

We’re tracking a big shot Mafia guy and his people of the night. He’s a criminal. Well, like everyone in Mafia is, but this one is a true psychopath, killing for pleasure once he’s on his sniff of drugs. He’s relatively young, 34, gorgeous male specimen, a fucking player in his all, and here to maybe get laid in one of the private rooms with some escort or lady of the night, or whatever else after a meeting with some other big shot. He’s like a fucking cat wherever he goes, and you can miss him if you don’t have keen eyes or you fucking blink, though he’s towering and ripped in muscles. But his people always make sure to surround him and make him untouchable and unseen.

No, he’s an Alpha guy and doesn’t need people to protect him. He can handle everything himself. He’s fucking dangerous if you don’t match his level.

“Yeah?” I’m near the bar, with my hands at my back, straight in stance, chest out, chin up, with eagle eyes on the lookout. I have neutral lens in my eyes which live stream what I see, and I can see what others see at my orders, like a hologram, if I request that from the ones back at HQ.

It’s one in the morning and the club is packed with the big guys, meaning millionaires and billionaires, and rich girls, and not so rich girls but wannabes. Music is thundering in the club and you can smell the mix of cocktail drinks and brand perfumes.

“He’s not in yet. None of his people reached the premises. But the info is solid. He’s a good friend with the owner of this club and having a meeting with him tonight. I’m across you and I’ve got a…slutty bitch dancing on my back…. Miss? Not happening. I’m a poor guy. Go and fuck a rich guy’s back. Come on.” I snort into laughter, under my lips as he’s so fucking irritated and I see him shoving her into another on the dance floor.

Oh! Matt? He’s no poor. He’s fucking rich, handsome as fuck, towering and muscled like a Greek God. And he’s got some ravishing emerald eyes with a messy raven-hued hair. He’s wearing some Armani black suit tailored to his muscles, so no wonder that red head beauty was fractioning his back. Ha-ha!

“Don’t be a bad boy, Matt. You’re a gentleman in general.” I grin at him across the room and he smirks at me.

“With the right people, darling. One like you, yes. One like her? You don’t want to know….” He winks at me, raising his whisky glass and now sipping from it while I roll my eyes and puff. Shut the fuck up, loser….

“Behave, Matt. We don’t want to draw attention to our plan tonight.” He’s devilishly grinning at me. Don’t start it…. I’m narrowing my pissed off look at him.

“Want me to behave in my bad boy nature, darling?”

“Fuck you, Matt.” Shit…. He winks at me and grabs the red head by her hair, turns her around, glues her to him, dancing, and kissing her fucking neck, with his eyes into mine, and his glass of whisky in his left hand aside. The red head is fucking wet on him, not an ounce against all that. I’m chewing from my left cheek, taking my eyes off it, continuing my lookout.

“Wanna go out?” The red head says as I hear her in my earpiece. Go, go…. He’ll so fuck you…. Ha-ha! I’m not looking at them.

“What do you say, Stace?” He’s whispering to me and the bitch is on a cascade of wetting her panties by her voice….

“I-I’m…. You can call me Stace if y-you want….” That fucking stupid bitch! Ha-ha! I’m laughing with appetite signaling the bartender to hit me with something. I won’t drink anyways, but I need to get into the picture.

“I say you can fuck all you want after, bad boy. You know that. She’s so fucking ready and a fucking beauty.” He groans with annoyance. Yeah, he wants us to be a thing. Not happening.

“You’re so bad, Stacey.” Yeah, my middle name…. “You fucking kill me all the time….” But you never die all the way…. “Fucker incoming at your right. Don’t make me become a killer before time, baby….” I’ve told you never to call me ‘baby’…. Son of a bitch…. “He’s checking out your entire back….” I’m hearing the red head squealing as he has probably dumped her from him.

Yeah, he’s just playing with her. He’s in his husky-Alpha voice. Let him check it out…. It’s as far as he can go…. Yeppers…. I’m with a cocktail in my hand as I’ve been served. What. The. Actual. Fuck?!

I’ve spotted my baby sister in a fucking expensive golden cocktail short dress, giggling at some rich guy, similar to Matt in appearance, walking with him to the private rooms upstairs.

The guy has bodyguards and he’s with his fucking hand squeezing her FUCKING ASS! I’M SEEING FUCKING BLOOD BEFORE MY FUCKING EYES! SHE SOULD HAVE BEEN IN A FUCKING NIGHT STUDY FOR HER HARVARD STUDIES!

“Stace? What’s up? Stace? Why? I don’t see anything…. Oh! Shit…. Stacey? Don’t. Not now. Stacey!”

Yeah, he probably saw to whom I’m looking at and the guy at my back has grabbed my ass receiving a punch with the back of my left hand while my eyes are not escaping my whorish sister who’s with her fucking hand on his ass now and I’m mental to fucking see that! The guy I’ve punched is over the bar something. I’m furious and walking with bad omen steps to where my sister is going all wet and with the fuck drive.

Study night, huh? I work my ass off to provide the best life for you and this is what you’re doing at my fucking back?! WHY?! My heart is fucking my throat at this point!

They’re already out of my sight as I’ve been on the other side of the club, but once I’ll reach there…. OH! MAN! SHE’S DEAD!

“Stay there and watch the perimeter, Matt! I’ll be back in due time…. I just have a little family situation….” I’m in my dry straight voice, breathing like a raging bull, delaying my steps on the stairs now as I need to fucking chill a bit and not fucking strangle her. Well, yeah, I’m a fucking killer among other things, and killing someone is for me like ridding a fucking bike….

“Stacey? Babe? Calm down. Please. Maybe it’s not her….” IT’S HER! I KNOW MY FUCKING SISTER! “Don’t create a mess at least. That guy is a fucking billionaire. I think I know him, but not sure.” Don’t care! Billionaire or not, if he fucked her, HE’S DEAD! THAT’S MY BABY SISTER! I ignore him and he sighs, cursing some for the situation.