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Buying the Barista (Alpha Billionaires Book 2) by Stella Stone (1)



My brother is an asshole.

He’s a manipulator, and a scammer. He’s had shady friends since he was a kid. As we’ve grown older, they’ve turned out to be dangerous more often than not. Standing behind the café’s counter, I watch him walk into the coffee shop with a man dressed in a suit.

The man in the suit is handsome I suppose, in a scary kind of way. His black hair is slicked back, his suit looks more expensive than anything I’ve ever owned. But it doesn’t look as expensive as some of the suits I see walk in here demanding coffee from me. He looks, average, except for the scary vibes he’s putting off.

My brother smiles at me, but it's tinged in sadness. My brows furrow at the look, it means he’s going to tell me something that I won’t like or agree with. He lifts his chin and the man’s gaze turns in my direction.

I freeze at the sight. His black eyes look me up and down, not in a sexy needy way, but in an assessing calculating way. He has turned from scary to downright terrifying.

“That’s her, Bexley,” Michael, my brother announces, proudly. He lifts his hand and motions me toward him.

Reluctantly, I follow his direction. My brother has been my only family since I was fourteen, and he was eighteen.

Our parents died, and instead of turning me over to family services, he took care of me. Except he did a shittier job than our drug addled parents did. I try not to hold that against him, he was as much of a kid as I was back then.

I spent my teenage years, alone and searching. Unfortunately, when you’re a young girl searching, you find yourself in sticky situations, and more often than not, dangerous ones at that.

“She will be a lovely addition. Bring her tomorrow morning, or we’ll come and get her,” the man announces.

I watch as he walks out of the coffee shop. Then, I slowly turn to my brother. He looks anxious, and guilty. “Tell me,” I hiss.

“I owe him a fuckton, Bex. There’s no way I can pay him back,” he states.

I blink, waiting for him to finish. “You’d do anything for me, right? To save me,” he pleads.

Slowly, I sit down in my seat. “What did you do, Michael?”

“You’re stronger than me, Bex. You’ll survive,” he states, nodding a few times while his knee bounces beneath the table.

I wait. His eyes cloud over before he speaks. His voice is stoic, it’s heartless, and cold. I know he’s trying to disconnect, I’ve seen him act this way with girlfriends time and time again, but I never thought he would toward me—his own sister.

“He’s going to send a couple of men to pick you up in the morning. You’ll be ready, and you’ll go with them.”

“I will?” I ask.

He nods. “Yeah, or they’ll kill us, Bexley. Not just me, both of us.”

I watch as my brother stands and walks out of the café. My boss clears his throat from behind the espresso machine and I slowly stand.

My feet shuffle toward him and I look back at my brother as he leaves the shop.

Did he just say what I think he said?

Did he sell me to someone as payment for his debts?


Walking into the dark room, I glance around. I don’t recognize any of the men, but that doesn’t surprise me. It seems there aren’t many repeat customers in this place. They either find what they’re looking for the first time, or they do a private deal with the owner.

The owner, Sam, has approached me more than once for a private deal. He wants to know what I’m looking for, as I’ve obviously not found it yet. I think he’s tired of seeing me walk out empty handed, which means he’s empty handed as well when I walk out.

That’s the problem though, I don’t know what I’m looking for. I am searching for something, for a new high, a new challenge. I just don’t know what it looks like yet.

The lights in the main room dim as the ten men around me take their seats. Behind the two-way glass the lights brighten, and five women are revealed. They’re made up, their faces painted, their hair styled. They all look like dolls, pretty little dolls ready to be destroyed.

They’re wearing barely there cheap panty and bra sets, with even cheaper hooker heels. They’re all young, some thinner than others, some with bigger breasts, but one thing they all have in common is that they’re all pretty.

However, none of them make my cock hard, or intrigue me. I mean if I were alone with one, I could get it up and fuck her, but I wouldn’t want to keep her.

This game, this challenge, it’s for keeps—at least for longer than a few hours. I need to make sure I make a smart investment. I can have whatever woman I want, the thrill of the chase and then dump her when I’m done, but that isn’t what this is.

The men are called into another room if they wish to continue on with their evening and bid on the five ladies in front of us. I decide to leave, instead. Sam stops me before I make my way to the door.

“Next time, bring some friends, maybe they’ll buy?”

I think about my three friends, my only friends. Would they be interested in this? I don’t know, but I do know that they’re a little like me—bored and tired of the same old, same old. I lift my chin in response and walk out of the building.

Cal, my driver is waiting for me. “Nothing, Mr. Abbott?”

Shaking my head, I run my fingers through my shaggy dark blond hair. “Nothing,” I sigh.

Sliding into the back seat of the town car, I let out a breath as my head hits the back of the seat. Closing my eyes, I try not to think about the emptiness of my life.

Taking my glasses off, I set them on my knee as I rub the heels of my palms against my eyes.

Never did I think I would be looking to purchase companionship. I can get a fuck, I could pay for a hooker too if I wanted. That isn’t what I’m looking for, though. The fact is, I don’t really know what I’m looking for, either.

I have a desire.

I want her to be solely mine.

I need to have control and I’ve never found a woman who was willing to give up as much as I crave to take.