The Billionaire's Affair (Tycoon Billionaires 2)

“He’s lying,” Orlov said. “No one sane would ever destroy such a valuable commodity.”

Dylan smirked. “Well, I must be crazy, because it’s gone. I know this is an alien concept to you, but some people do actually value world peace more than world domination. So you can forget the idea of trying to blackmail my country or start a war, alright.”

The oldest Russian with white hair and wrinkled skin spoke in a raspy voice. “We don’t intend to start a war with America. Why would we do that?”

Dylan reached slowly into his inner jacket pocket, which caused a few men to whip out guns and point them at him. He forced himself to remain calm.

“Cool it,” he said. “What I’ve got here is more potent than any firearm.”

He held aloft the bundle of papers that Mikhail had given him. The Russians stared at the papers, not understanding.

“I’m not entirely sure why you want to start a war with America,” Dylan said. “But I’ve got plenty of evidence right here to say you do. And Natalia Orlov knew about it too, because these are her emails to the anti-government rebel group she was a member of.”

Dylan allowed this to hang in the air. No one reacted so he continued. “She was a spy, and she shafted all you men right under your noses. Fun, huh?”

Like a pack of hungry hunting dogs on a lame deer, the Russian men turned and sank their vicious glares into Orlov. Some of them were still holding their guns. One guy pulled out a flick-knife. Orlov looked like he was about to pee his pants.

Orlov darted his eyes around, desperate to wriggle off this deadly hook that Dylan was dangling him from – dangling him directly into shark-infested waters. “What are you talking about? Natalia wasn’t a spy. You are a liar.”

“Don’t play dumb, Vlad,” Dylan said. “It doesn’t suit you. You know as well as I do that you fucked up by falling in love with a spy, then when you found out the truth you panicked and killed her, right?”

No one spoke, or even breathed. Everyone stared at Orlov, waiting for his reply. Orlov himself was staring at the bundle of papers in Dylan’s hand, willing it to be nothing but a bluff – a pack of lies. Dylan glanced at the papers too, then threw them into the middle of the table like a nail bomb, waiting for it to explode right in Orlov’s smug handsome sinister face.

“It’s all in there,” Dylan said.

The Russian nearest to the bundle picked it up and started to rifle through. “It’s true,” he whispered.

The other men leaned closer towards Orlov, brandishing their guns and knives, trying to decide which bits of him to cut off first.

Orlov held up his hands; his voice was straining with panic. “But she’s gone now. I had her killed. As soon as I found out, I arranged to have her killed!” He appealed to his comrades. “Let’s kill Quinlan and no one will ever know the truth!”

“So you admit you killed Natalia?” Dylan asked. “Hired a hitman, did you?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t do it myself, would I?”

“I guess not. But anyway, thanks for the confession.” Dylan pulled his phone from his breast pocket. “Detective Edwards has been recording all this in the lobby, so she’ll be up to deal with you soon. But I guess your colleagues would probably like to deal with you in their own way first, huh?”

Dylan smiled coolly at the devastated Orlov, then he turned to walk towards the door, leaving the bundle of papers in the hands of the Russians.

He glanced back as the men began to close in on him. “Oh, by the way, Vlad – just in case you’re wondering, the sponsorship deal’s off.”

Orlov’s voice trembled with terror. “Dylan, please don’t leave me! Send the police up, send them up! I’ll confess everything – names, crimes, dates, anything. Just don’t leave me with these maniacs!”

Dylan closed the door and tried to block out Orlov’s pleads for mercy. He knew the detective wouldn’t allow Orlov to come to any harm – that’s how justice was done in civilised societies; even for bastards who pushed the bounds of human decency. Dylan strolled down the corridor, feeling strong and secure. Sarah had helped him to find his inner-strength through love, and now he wanted to take her far away from this madness, and make sure nothing like this ever happened to them again.

He jogged down to the lobby, where Detective Edwards was chatting with a group of uniformed officers. She seemed to be taking her time with the Orlov rescue-mission, which made Dylan chuckle.

“He’s all yours,” Dylan said.

She thrust out her hand. “Thank you, Mr Quinlan. You did a good job.”

He shook her hand and they exchanged a mutual smile, then he stepped over to where Sarah was waiting. She threw her arms around him and he held her tight.

“You okay?” she asked. “They didn’t hurt you?”

“Nah, they wouldn’t dare.” He gazed down into her eyes. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Yeah.” She let out a laugh of relief. “Do you know what, Mr Quinlan? I think this could be the beginning of a beautiful relationship.”