The Billionaire's Affair: Billionaire Brothers (Tycoon Billionaires Book 2) (6 page)

The hub of London’s entertainment district – Leicester Square – was hot and busy this lunch-hour, so Sarah stripped off her suit jacket and draped it over her arm, holding Dylan’s hand as they strolled through the bustle in the sunshine. She knew she looked cool behind her Ray-Bans. She felt cool too. Had she really just walked out of work like that?
And
out on the police! It felt refreshing to be a rebel for once; she’d been so straight-laced for so long, and suddenly a deeply-buried side of her was bursting up like a phoenix. Excitement twirled through her chest. It was like she and Dylan were a scaled-down version of Bonnie and Clyde on the run from the cops; hiding out during their lunch-break. She laughed at the thought. Dylan threw her a grin and put his arm around her, adding pure lust to her happy mood with his electric touch. It was true, he
was
trouble, but he brought out the best in her – a fun side; a rebellious streak. And she was completely safe with him – he would never let anything bad happen to her. He’d always been an expert on getting out of tricky situations by keeping his cool and using his powers of persuasion. Or – if that failed – by using brute force. Sarah knew she could let her guard down as long as Dylan was here.

Sarah’s thoughts ran through the ‘friendly chat’ with the police back at the hotel, and a cloud of gloom obscured the sunshine of her happy mood. An image of the missing Natalia flashed into her mind. Sarah dreaded to think what Orlov was capable of doing to his wife – poor woman. She prayed that Natalia would turn up at noon today to meet Dylan as planned. Then she could stop worrying about her and try to get back to life as normal.

But did ‘life as normal’ mean a life without Dylan? Since she’d be reunited with him last night, her world had been turned on its head. And somehow, she loved it!

She squeezed his fingers and smiled as the sound of a busker’s happy tune caught her ears. It felt so natural to be walking along holding his hand. She’d always loved vibrant Leicester Square. It was relatively clean, and there were always street performers keeping the tourists entertained. Today the buskers were out in force, playing their acoustic guitars and creating an uplifting vibe. The iconic statue of William Shakespeare took centre-stage, and there were plenty of benches for people to sit on and soak up the atmosphere. It was great to see all walks of life here today: business people in their smart attire, students, tourists… and of course, the ubiquitous police who patrolled regularly, looking for pickpockets and drug dealers.

Even though it was hot and crowded today, the atmosphere was fun and light. Sarah’s mood spiralled further upwards, as her gaze fell on the sight of a young man leaning against a shop wall – as casual as a sunbeam. She grinned, unable to believe what her eyes were showing her.
Joseph
! The last time Sarah had seen Joseph, he’d been fourteen and already taller than her five-five height. But now he was six-foot, strapping, and gorgeous. He was dressed like a rock star in skin-tight black jeans with a sleeveless black T-shirt – which emphasised his toned arms. His demeanour was super-cool, and Sarah could tell he was destined for stardom.

Joseph stood straight as they halted in front of him, then he coolly hugged his big brother.

“Hey, Joey, you remember Sarah? We dated all through college.”

Joseph’s handsome face broke into a grin that would’ve caused his female fans to melt inside. “Oh sure, Sarah. You stayed with us that Thanksgiving, right?”

Sarah took his proffered hand. She tried to control herself but he was caressing her fingers as if he was making love to them. She forced herself not to giggle. She was a twenty-eight year old woman. And this was
Joseph
.

“That’s right,” she said. “Thank you for remembering me.”

Joseph glanced at Dylan. “How could I not? You’re the woman who owns my brother’s heart.”

Sarah blushed. The crowd seemed to fade as a delightful awkwardness drifted between her and Dylan.

Dylan glared daggers at his little brother. “What would
you
know, Joey? You were twelve when you first met Sarah, huh? Pre-pubescent.”

Joseph threw him a gritted smile. “How many times must I remind you that my name is Joseph? Not Joey.”

“Yeah, sorry. Come on, kiddo, let’s grab some lunch.”

Dylan threw a boisterous arm around Joseph’s shoulders, then he delicately draped his other arm around Sarah, and they walked in a line like that, making Sarah feel proud to be with these two lovely men. The Quinlan family had always been warm and welcoming – Sarah hadn’t felt like a member of a family for so long, yet suddenly, being with these two, she felt at home.

“So, Joseph,” Sarah said. “I hear you’re studying at the moment?”

“Yeah, I’m on summer vacation right now, but I’ll go into my final year in October, then after that, concentrate on the band.”

“You’ll be a full-time musician?”

“That’s what I want. Ivan always said I had the talent and the charisma. I’d like to give it a go. For his memory.”

Sarah smiled sadly. “I was sorry to hear about Ivan.”

Dylan squeezed them both tight. “Hey, you never know, Joey… Joseph… Maybe you’ll be reunited with him one day.”

Joseph shrugged. Sarah was surprised to hear Dylan say something so spiritual, but perhaps he’d changed since she’d known him at college. Losing a loved-one tended to make people more philosophical...

Sarah was pulled out of her thoughts by a commotion at the other side of the square. A woman was frantically screaming behind the statue of Shakespeare, and a crowd had gathered to help. Sarah’s muscles froze as she saw Natalia push through the crowd and speed towards Dylan. She was dressed in a cape with a hood, which fluttered behind her, and Sarah realised she must’ve wanted to remain incognito, but there was little chance of that now she’d given herself away by screaming and fleeing over here with such drama.

Natalia yelled in a bloodcurdling voice. “Dylan! Dylan! Help me, help me!”

On auto-pilot, Dylan rushed to meet her, and Sarah and Joseph followed. As they came together, Natalia stumbled, and Dylan caught her in his arms.

Then Sarah saw it.

Everything else faded into the background as Sarah’s mind glued itself to the terrifying sight of a bloody knife sticking out of Natalia’s back. Fear zoomed into Sarah’s brain as if she’d been injected with a hypodermic needle full of insanity. Her muscles tensed, and the boundaries of her personal space squashed up close, crushing her lungs and restricting her breath.

She watched through blurring eyes, as the bleeding
Natalia locked her gaze with Dylan’s. She panted in his arms, clearly dying. Sarah wanted to reach out and comfort her, but reality was like molasses – like a nightmare where you can’t speak or even move…

With her last ounce of strength, Natalia pulled herself up to Dylan’s ear and spoke urgently, but the sound of the frantic crowd prevented Sarah from hearing a single word. It was clearly bad news – Dylan’s eyes widened in shock as she spoke.

Sarah realised with sadness how utterly alone Natalia was. Even though she was surrounded by hundreds of people in this pulsating crowd, no one could save her. Not even Dylan. She shivered and
watched in slow motion as Dylan suddenly sprung to life and grabbed Natalia by the shoulders. “What do you mean?” he asked. “What are you saying?”

Natalia inhaled to speak, but it was too late. She gasped for air, desperate to answer, but her heavy head dropped forward like a cannonball, and her life drained away. She flopped against Dylan’s body. And she was gone.

Dylan stared frozen at the dead woman in his arms. Dizziness encompassed Sarah. She felt herself stumble as her knees gave way, but she managed to stay upright by colliding with the hordes of people who were now suffocating her, demanding answers; desperate to know what the hell had just happened.

Sarah’s body prickled with panic – what if the mob turned against them? What if someone accused Dylan of killing Natalia?
She felt as if she was standing on the cusp of something terrible. A window ledge. It was like trying to control a slippery fish as it thrashed about, desperate to stay alive. She glanced into the sea of confusion, unsure what to do next… But thankfully two
cops were already running over. They eased Natalia’s heavy lifeless body out of Dylan’s frozen arms and rested her on the ground.

Dylan came back to life and turned to Sarah, hugging her tight. She sank into his body, relieved to feel his strength all around her. She could feel him shaking. Or maybe it was
her
shaking. Dylan reached out and threw his other arm around Joseph, checking he was okay, then they stood there in the chaos – in the heat and the madness – until more police arrived to deal with the ever-growing crowd; to deal with this celebrity Russian socialite who was now dead on the dusty ground of the famous London landmark.

Sarah couldn’t drag her eyes away from the cold beautiful corpse. But then someone who Sarah never thought she’d be relieved to see shoved her way through to halt in front of their little group… Detective Edwards.

“You three need to come with me now,” she shouted, raising her voice against the noisy rabble. “And this time, Mr Quinlan, I suggest you do call your lawyer.”

Dylan scrubbed his shaking hands under the far-too-hot water in the grotty men’s room at the police station. He splashed his face, then inspected his weary reflection in the warped mirror. Jesus. His brief affair with Natalia had led him to places he’d never thought possible. Poor girl… he’d never wanted
this
to happen. Not in a million years. What sort of man arranged to have his wife stabbed in a public square like that? Dylan gazed into his own eyes and saw a generally decent man in there. Certainly not someone like Vladimir Orlov. He vowed that this was the last time he’d get mixed up with anything dangerous or dubious. Straight down the line from now on. His priorities had swerved now that Sarah was back in his life, and he needed to keep her out of trouble. Metallic pain pierced his heart as his mind switched Sarah for Natalia in today’s terrible scene. There was no way…

He prepared himself to face reality again by breathing deeply into his lungs, standing tall, and setting his face to confident, then – happy with what the mirror showed him – he strode back out to the featureless side-room where Sarah and Joseph were chatting quietly on a fraying couch, drinking tea from polystyrene cups. It smelled musty in here, like an ancient closet full of worn-out overcoats.

“Hey,” Dylan said, joining them. He reached down and rubbed Sarah on the cheek. She closed her eyes and relished his touch, like a cat nuzzling its owner’s hand. Sarah was a strong-minded woman, but he was worried he’d dragged her in above her head. And as for his little brother… Joseph had been through a lot recently what with losing Ivan. The last thing Dylan wanted was for him to have some sort of mental breakdown.

Dylan opened his mouth to ask if they were both okay – which was a silly question after what had just happened – but he closed it as his lawyer strode into the room.

“Dylan, hi,” he said. They shook hands.

“Jim, thanks for coming so quick.”

Jim was a tall wily middle-aged man who Dylan had appointed as Grafton Techs’ legal head as soon as he’d arrived in London. He was balding, slightly grubby, and always had a five o’clock shadow. But what he lacked in suave appearances, he made up for with ruthless legal prowess.

“Right,” Jim said. “The police are ready to begin, but I suggest you only speak to them in my presence, okay?”

“Are we in any trouble?” Sarah asked.

“None,” Jim said. “You haven’t been arrested so you’re under no obligation to stay here. You’re doing
them
a favour. As a witness to an offence, you –”

“Offence?” Joseph scoffed. “Is that lawyer-speak for ‘a brutal coldblooded murder’?”

Jim ignored the interruption. “– you aren’t obliged under UK law to answer
any
of the detective’s questions.” He pinned Dylan with a stare that probably scared the hell out of witnesses in court. “Technically you could just walk out now, Dylan.”

“I know. But I need to find out what’s going on.”

Jim glanced at Sarah. “Was Natalia Orlov –
uhh
– dear to you, Dylan?”

“No, but she died right in my arms. And I’m potentially about to do business with her husband. Her widower.”

“Her murderer,” Joseph muttered.

Jim transferred his stare to Joseph. “I wouldn’t go around making accusations like that without proof, young man.”

Dylan intervened before Joseph was able to give whatever sarcastic reply was formulating in his mouth.

“Look,” Dylan said. “In my mind, the police are helping
me
with
my
enquiries. I just wanna find out what the hell’s going on.”

Jim’s face remained as cool as an ice-bucket. “Fine. I’ll go and tell the detective my clients are ready to talk.”

Dylan wasn’t sure why he had such an instinctive dislike of the police. Perhaps it was because of the rumours of his father’s gun-running past, which had haunted the family in the decades since he’d given it up – if he had indeed done it. His dad wasn’t telling, and none of the brothers were keen to know the truth. But Dylan
was
keen to know the truth about Natalia.

This stuffy interview room was gloomy with dark grey walls and plastic chairs. There was a shabby wooden table between Dylan and the detective, with an industrial tape recorder screwed to the wall – as if anyone would try to steal such an archaic piece of junk in the middle of a police interrogation. Dylan drummed his fingers on the table, waiting for the constable to finish setting up the recording device. Jim sat next to him, and Detective Edwards sat opposite – drinking coffee from a plastic cup and looking weary. She stank of cigarettes, and her voice was gravelly from smoking too much.

“So here we are again, Mr Quinlan. Perhaps if you’d been more cooperative earlier, Mrs Orlov might still be alive.”

Dylan’s irritation surged. “This has nothing to do with me. I didn’t stick that goddamn knife in her.”

Detective Edwards sighed. “Okay, Mr Quinlan. Could you tell us what your relationship was with Mrs Orlov? Is it true you were having an affair?”

Jim leaned casually back in his seat. “Dylan, you don’t have to answer that. The interview hasn’t officially started and you’re under no obligation to talk.” He glared at the detective. “Perhaps
if
the detective wants information, she might want to try being a bit more civil.”

Detective Edwards opened her mouth to reply, but Dylan’s phone rang, so he pulled it out of his inside jacket pocket. “Excuse me. This might be a client.”

Detective Edwards grumbled. “Mr Quinlan, please finish your call quickly then turn off your phone.”

Dylan ignored her and blocked out the petty squabble that she and Jim were launching into. He held his phone to his ear. “Dylan Quinlan speaking.”

The end of the line crackled. Dylan strained to listen. “Hello?”

A whispered Russian voice said. “We know you are with police. You must not tell what Natalia said to you, or else your brothers will die one by one. And then your sweet little sister. Understand?”

Dylan’s shoulders shuddered with shock as the air constricted around him. His mind raced with frantic dread. Were his siblings in trouble? Joseph was still here at the police station, wasn’t he? And Adam? Surely he’d be okay; at the office as usual. And what about… the others… He glanced at the detective, who was still having a restrained argument with Jim about Dylan’s involvement in all this. “You need to either arrest and charge my client, or let him go. He’s done nothing wrong.”

Dylan calmed his thrashing heart and opened his mouth to appease the caller, but the line went dead. Trying to stop his hands from shaking with adrenaline, he dropped the phone back in his pocket and forced himself to think straight. He needed to get out of here with as little fuss and suspicion from the detective as possible. Then he could sort this mess out himself.

He splayed his hands on the table. “I’m ready to answer your questions.”

The detective threw her attention over him. “Anyone important on the phone?”

“Wrong number.”

“Right. Okay, let’s get on with this witness interview then – before your
lawyer
decides to sue Her Majesty’s Law Enforcement Agency.” She pressed ‘record’ on the tape player and gave a preamble. Then she gazed deeply into Dylan’s eyes. He held her eye contact, refusing to be intimidated. “Okay, Mr Quinlan, first things first. We know Natalia Orlov shouted your name and sourced you out in Leicester Square. Our officers say Mrs Orlov spoke into your ear. What did she say exactly. Word-for-word, please.”

Dylan straightened his tie. “I don’t know. She was speaking in Russian.”

Detective Edwards raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Okay. In that case, can you tell me what business you had with Mrs Orlov at the Grantham Hotel last night?”

“If you must know, I met her to call it off.”

“To call what off? You were having an affair?”

Dylan glanced at the tape recorder. If he admitted this on record, would Orlov come after him again?

The detective followed his gaze. “What you say will be treated as strictly confidential, Mr Quinlan.”

He glanced at Jim, who nodded.

“Well, okay, it’s none of your business, but we’d previously met up to have sex maybe two or three times.”

“I see. Was it two or three?”

“I don’t really remember.”

The detective sneered at him as if he was some disgusting slut. “Right. Can you tell me what happened last night? You were seen leaving the hotel with the general manager – Sarah Newell – and a maid.”

Dylan glanced at Jim, who shrugged. “Okay,” Dylan said. “This is the truth. There was this Russian guy with a knife trying to kill me last night. Natalia hid in the bathroom, but she must’ve screamed or something, which alerted Sarah, who came to the room and bashed the guy over the head with a lamp. He was fine; he got up and walked away. We decided to smuggle Natalia out of the hotel dressed as a maid, for her safety as well as mine. Alright? That’s the truth.”

“I see… And do you think the same knifeman might’ve killed her today?”

“No clue. I didn’t see anything until she’d already been… stabbed.”

“And why would anyone want her dead?”

“Isn’t that your job to find out?”

The detective glared blankly. “I’m asking for your opinion.”

“Alright, well – if you want my opinion – I’d say you need to start with the jealous husband. I assume you’re asking Mr Orlov similar questions, huh?”

Detective Edwards didn’t blink. “I believe you and Mr Orlov had a business meeting this morning. What was discussed there?”

“That’s confidential, sorry. But it was nothing to do with last night. Or Natalia.”

She softened slightly. “Mr Quinlan – off the record – I strongly recommend you don’t continue down that road with Vladimir Orlov. He’s trouble.”

Dylan leaned forward and stared into her eyes. “Thanks for the tipoff. Can I go now?”