The Billionaire's Revenge (Tycoon Billionaires 3)
“No, Ivan.”
“What did he invent?”
Joseph caressed her face, searching her eyes for answers. “I wish I could tell you. I’ve been fantasizing about unburdening myself because I know you’ll listen. No one’s ever made me feel like… you know…”
“You can talk to me anytime.”
“I want to…” He sighed. “But for now, I guess I’d better call the cops. Don’t mention any of that stuff about my family to anyone, will you?”
She reached up and caressed his cheek, feeling honoured that he trusted her with this. “No of course not.”
He pulled out his phone and explained to the cops what had happened, then he hung up and gazed around the room, distracted. “They said they’ll be here as soon as they can.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah. And if they can’t help, my brother Dylan has a friend who’s quite senior in the NYPD, so maybe I’ll speak to him about this. Go straight to the top, you know. He’s a good cop… not corrupt like some of them…”
Eleanor hugged him. “You okay?”
“Yeah. You want some coffee?”
“Sure. I’ll wait here with you until you feel better.”
“I’m okay. You don’t have to.”
“You want me to go?”
“No… no. I’d love you to stay. But I’m okay.”
She kissed him. “Good. I’ll stay. Let’s have that coffee.”
Joseph disappeared into the kitchen, so Eleanor hoisted one of the couches upright and sat down. Her mind swam with curiosity, wondering what Ivan had invented, and why the hell anyone would want him dead. This suddenly seemed incredibly dangerous. A sense of foreboding crept over her, but she forced herself to remain calm. Abandoning Joseph now would probably be sensible, but her heart wouldn’t allow it.
Joseph came back through with the coffee. He gestured to the couch. “Hey, I would’ve done that.”
“It’s okay.” She smiled. “I’ve got strong muscles from all my yoga.”
He grinned. “I know. I can’t wait to get my hands all over your gorgeous body again!”
She opened her mouth to say something flirty, but there was a knock at the door.
“The cops?” Eleanor said. “That was quick.”
He winked. “Maybe they recognised the name ‘Joseph Quinlan’, and came running fast.”
She laughed, glad he’d lightened up. She watched as Joseph strode over to the front door and pulled it open. But as he registered who was standing on his doorstep, the atmosphere clouded over with gloom – reflecting the upturned furniture and strewn clutter.
“You?” Joseph said. “What the hell are you doing here?”
A man’s voice replied. “Can I come in?”
Eleanor grabbed her coffee and took a sip as Joseph stood back to let the man in. She almost spat out her mouthful as Gerald Stinger strolled inside. He halted and stared at her – seeming equally as surprised to see her here.
He looked flustered – as if he’d left the house in a hurry. He wasn’t even wearing a coat, even though it was freezing outside. “Eleanor, how did you get here so fast?”
Eleanor opened her mouth, hoping an excuse would appear on her lips as she spoke, but she didn’t get the chance, because Joseph suddenly grabbed Stinger and pushed him against the wall, pinning him as he’d so recently done to Eleanor. But this wasn’t playful or sexual – there was only aggression in his demeanour now, as he held the struggling Stinger in place, ready to rip his head off – or something lower down his body.
“You wanna tell me what the fuck’s going on?” Joseph hissed. “Or I’ll show you how it feels to have your private thoughts smeared all over the public arena – when I rip off your head and crack open your goddamn skull!”