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The Billionaire's Kisses (Tycoon Billionaires 1)

Page 52

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Tariq chuckled kindly. “Honestly, Amy, what do you think I’ve got down there? Frankenstein’s monster?”

Amy winced apologetically. Her knees filled with fear at the prospect of going anywhere near his basement, but her British sense of guilt kicked in – as well as her rational mind – and she shook herself out of it. It was true that Tariq was a bit awkward, but he wasn’t a serial killer. Surely there was no harm in finding out what he’d been working on. It might be something Adam and Dylan needed to complete the puzzle of Ivan’s invention. Or his death.

She propelled herself forward, placing one foot on the first step, then the next. She turned to face Tariq. He nodded encouragingly.

Amy inhaled deeply, then turned to continue her descent towards the rickety basement door. She halted in front of it and glanced back at Tariq again.

“It’s okay, just push it. It’s not locked.”

Amy pushed the door and it swung on its hinges. It was dimly lit inside, with no windows and stale air. She braced herself to see something horrible, but reminded herself that she wasn’t in any danger. She lifted her foot to step inside, but a clang behind her struck her brain like a bomb siren. She screamed and jumped around. Tariq reached out and grabbed the picture that had fallen from the wall. Amy panted, trying to calm her frantic heartbeat.

“Shit,” Tariq said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump. It was just this picture. I accidentally knocked it with my shoulder. Come on, let’s go in.”

Amy exhaled, realising she’d been holding her breath. She turned and crept into the dingy room, and – as her eyes adjusted to the light – she glanced around. She relaxed and chastised herself for being so paranoid. It was just a normal basement, with cardboard boxes stacked up against the walls, an old pool table, and…

Amy froze. Was that…?

There was an old couch pushed up in the corner, and as her eyes focused in the dimness, they seemed to be showing her a dead body lying on it. Amy swallowed, feeling her sense of reality slip away. She could sense Tariq loitering like a zombie behind her, sending prickles of terror down her exposed neck.

Desperate to prove her eyesight wrong, she slunk over to the couch, praying that the body was nothing more than an innocent shop mannequin, or some kind of voodoo. But electric panic gripped her internal organs, as she realised it was Ivan’s dead body.

Oh god! She didn’t dare turn to look at Tariq. Her mind pulsed with alerts of grave danger. Her normal sense of reality imploded, leaving only pumping, primal fear. But surely Adam and Dylan would be coming to the rescue any moment now, because they were seeing what she was seeing. Amy snapped into survival mode and realised the best thing to do would be to keep Tariq calm until they arrived.

“This is Ivan?” she whispered, trying to keep the fear out of her voice.

“Yes,” Tariq said, standing close behind her.

She fixed her gaze on Ivan’s pale face, feeling her heart thrash wildly against her ribcage, desperate to escape. Poor Ivan, he looked so peaceful lying there with his eyes closed, blissfully unaware of the terrible shockwaves that his death had caused. Amy’s eyes welled with tears. Ivan had been a handsome man; it was such a shame. But… wasn’t it strange how well he’d been preserved considering he’d been gone for a month?

Amy inhaled to keep Tariq talking, planning to say how attractive Ivan had been, but her mind burst with terror as Ivan’s eyes flickered open…

Chapter Twenty-Five

The rain fell heavily onto the windshield of Adam’s car as he stared ahead at the wipers, mesmerised. The damn camera and mic had cut out as Amy had gone into Tariq’s basement, and they had no idea what was going on. Adam feared the worst…

“Something’s happened,” Adam said. “I don’t trust him. I mean, what the fuck would he wanna show her down there?”

Dylan stared at the laptop on the dashboard, which showed nothing but static. “It’ll come back on as soon as she goes back upstairs. Let’s just wait and see what happens.”

Adam gripped the steering wheel. “He knows… He knows we’re involved.”

“How could he? Amy was doing a great job of getting him onside. Quit worrying so much.”

Adam rested his gaze on the wipers as they swished the deluge back and forth, blurring the windshield and blocking his view. Not that there was anything to see around here but empty road. The bleak surroundings reflected his mood. He was struck with an overwhelming desire to rescue Amy. Why had he let her go in there? He’d never been comfortable with this arrangement, and now all he wanted was to get her out of danger. His heart was so full of her; he couldn’t bear for her to be harmed. What if Tariq turned nasty? What if he discovered the camera and mic? What if he discovered the… oh shit!

Adam turned slowly to face Dylan. How was he going to explain this? Just say it…

“Amy’s got the prototype about her person.”

Dylan tensed like lightning rod. “What! How?”

“You said I should put it somewhere safe. I got it made into a pendant when she was out shopping with Preti. I gave it to her at the party. It must be tucked under her shirt, but if Tariq sees it… he’ll know.”

“Adam, you fucking idiot.”

“I thought it was a safe place to hide it. I should’ve remembered to tell her to take it off.”

“Well, it’s too late now. We’ll just have to hope he won’t see it.”



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