The Billionaire's Revenge: Billionaire Brothers Billionaire Bachelors (Tycoon Billionaires Book 3)

by Farrell, Julie

  “So what’s the plan?” she asked, propping herself up on her elbows. “Meet up with the private investigator and beg him to confess?”

  Joseph ran his fingers absentmindedly through her hair. “You should contact the private investigator and arrange to meet with him at Press HQ tomorrow night – tell him you’ve heard how great he is and that Stinger has tipped you off to use him. In the meantime, I can meet up with Dylan and get him to talk to his cop friend. Then we’ll tell the private investigator that the police are on-board. The incorrupt ones this time.”

  “Sounds like a good plan. But this private investigator… he might turn ugly?”

  “Nah, he won’t.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I’ll be there with you. And we’ll bring Adam and Dylan for back-up. And a briefcase full of money.”

  She laughed, snuggling back in his arms again. “Sounds like you’ve thought of everything.”

  He kissed her on the forehead. “I just want you to succeed, sweetheart.”

  “So I get to keep the story, right?”

  “Of course – I’ve thought of that too. You can publish it in The Big Society, then use that as a press release for all the major broadsheets. I bet you’ll have the pick of the jobs after that – they’ll be begging you to work for them. The good newspapers; the ones that actually believe in reporting the facts. ” He squeezed her in his arms. “But for now, we’ve got a couple hours before we land. How about I show you how to adopt a good position in the unlikely case of an emergency landing?”

  She chuckled. “Please do!”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Eleanor felt strong and powerful as she strode in the snow towards the steps of Press HQ the next evening, surrounded by the three Quinlan Brothers. It was amazing the power they emitted – especially when they were on a mission. It was like having three bodyguards. Adam and Dylan had come straight from work and were dressed in their designer suits, and Joseph was holding her hand – wearing his usual leather trousers and winter coat over his shirt. Eleanor was in her pinstripe suit and heels, and she imagined the whole scene looked like something out of a 1950s spy movie. Dylan had spoken to his cop friend earlier, and he’d said he would gladly reopen the case against News Scape if they could provide him with a lead and some evidence. So that’s what they planned to do tonight.

  Eleanor had taken great joy in calling the private investigator earlier, requesting he meet her here tonight. He hadn’t suspected a thing, because she’d opened the conversation by mentioning Stinger’s name, and then they’d chatted about what sort of services he could provide. But he wasn’t stupid of course. He’d ensured he’d only spoken vaguely over the phone, not committing himself to any details, and saying they ought to meet in person before he took her on as a client.

  So here she was with Joseph, Adam, and Dylan, striding up the steps of Press HQ, rushing to get in out of the freezing snow – ready to lay the trap. It was quiet here this evening, due to the treacherous weather and lack of protesters, but the old gothic building was still as much of a fortress as ever. Luckily, there was only one security guard, cowering under an umbrella, dressed in a thick trench coat and leather boots. Eleanor halted on the concrete steps and flashed her pass at him.

  “Eleanor Davison,” she said. “These guys are with me.”

  The guard grabbed her pass with gloved hands and inspected it closely. “Why are you here this time of night, ma’am?”

  “I’m interviewing Joseph Quinlan.”

  The guard glanced up and noticed Joseph for the first time. He seemed taken aback about having this A-list rockstar standing on his steps. The fact that Joseph was wearing sunglasses in the middle of winter should’ve been a clue.

  Joseph remained totally deadpan, playing the part of celebrity asshole perfectly. “Do we have a problem?”

  “Uhh…” The guard turned back to Eleanor, not daring to speak to the rock-god himself. “And who are these other two men with you, ma’am?”

  Adam folded his arms across his broad chest and glowered. Eleanor tried not to laugh – he looked as if he’d just walked off the set of Reservoir Dogs. “We’re Joseph’s bodyguards and we never let him out of our sight. Now hurry up; it’s freezing out here and our superstar needs to either go inside right now or get back in the limo.”

  The guard glanced at the road. There was no limo there, because they’d come in a cab. He spoke to Eleanor again. “I’m sorry, but I’m can’t permit entry to anyone without an official pass. You can enter, but I’m afraid–”

  Joseph whipped off his shades and stepped into the guard’s personal space. “Do you know who I am?”

  “Yes, sir, but–”

  “No, I don’t think you do. I’m Blair Robertson’s biggest money-maker, and I’ve never been so insulted. I’m freezing my nuts off out here, while you – some nobody – treats me like a regular person! That’s it, Ellie, the interview’s off. I’ll ensure Mr Robertson hears all about how this guard prevented you from acquiring the most lucrative scoop in the history of his newspaper. Goodbye!”

  Joseph turned to leave, but Eleanor grabbed his arm, playing along. “No, Joseph, please! I’m sure this guard will do the right thing and allow New Scape’s biggest commodity to enter the building.” She shot the guard a pleading look, saying to him with her big blue eyes, ‘It’s okay – I’m the same as you. He’s an idiot, but we all have to pander to the stars in this job…’

  “Please,” she whispered to the guard, as Joseph struggled against her grip. “Do the right thing…”

  The guard’s expression was full of terror – torn between not wanting to upset this superstar but wanting to follow the protocol about who was allowed entry. He inspected Joseph and his ‘bodyguards’ once more, then he stepped out the way and allowed them to access the huge red wooden doors. Eleanor’s nerves dissipated as she strode inside. She exhaled, realising she’d been holding her breath. Then she led the three Quinlan brothers into the stark and empty foyer.

  The only other person in here at the moment clearly possessed all the correct entry paperwork. The private investigator was sitting on one of the leather couches with his legs crossed, looking like an English gent dressed in a tweed suit and a bowtie. Eleanor knew looks could be deceptive, but this shouldn’t be too hard.

  She strode over to where he was sitting and thrust out her hand. “You must be Max.”

  He stood up and smiled smarmily. He spoke like an English gent too. “Eleanor, yes. Glad to make your acquaintance. Forgive my furtiveness; Gerald doesn’t usually pass my details onto new reporters.”

  He glanced over her shoulder at where Adam, Dylan, and Joseph were now forming a wall of muscle behind her.

  Eleanor gestured to Joseph. “I’ve managed to bag myself a celebrity, so Stinger’s been impressed with my work so far. Stinger mentioned that you work with several journalists within News Scape – is that correct?”

  Max lowered his voice. “One must be discreet about such connections.”

  “Oh… but you do have a long list of infiltrators who you can buy information from, right? People in the IRS, corrupt government officials… even some local cops, I hear?”

  Max glanced to the side shiftily. “We’re not usually quite so candid about it, Ms Davison. You might want to keep your voice down. You never know who might betray you.”

  She smiled sweetly. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m very new to this. Why don’t we sit down and talk discreetly?”

  He smiled paternally. “Yes, okay.”

  Eleanor sat with him on the leather couch. The men remained standing, looking fiercely intimidating in their suits. Eleanor’s gaze brushed over the black leather briefcase handcuffed to Adam’s wrist. Max glanced at the men and shifted uncomfortably.

  Eleanor summoned up her sweetest demeanour. “The thing is, I’ve uncovered a great story – it could actually be the scoop of the century. But I need you to confirm if it’s true.”

  “Right, okay. Well
, why don’t you tell me more, and I’ll see what I can do?”

  “Alright.” Eleanor inhaled and looked directly into Max’s eyes. “So, there’s this guy called Blair Robertson who owns a newspaper and employs an editor called Gerald Stinger. Together, they framed a reporter – Bob Crowe – I think you know him? He was using illegal means of acquiring information and he went to prison. Anyway, Bob knows that every other reporter in the company is also bribing, blackmailing, and coercing to get information for their stories. So where do you come in? Well, it’s been suggested that the person who’s been feeding them this information has shady contacts with phone companies, corrupt government officials, and even a few bent cops. I was wondering whether you might like to help me to find out more about this? Huh? What do you say? Max?”

  Max was staring at Eleanor with his mouth open. He’d gone very pale.

  “What’s the matter, Max?” Joseph said stepping forward. “No comment?”

  Eleanor hardened up, allowing her true feelings to gush out. “Look, you know you’ve broken all sorts of laws. You’ve even been hacking Joseph’s phone – or someone you paid has. We’ve told the police, and they’re very interested – and they’re not the sort of cops you can bribe. So I have a deal for you: if you give us the list of all the other reporters who you’ve helped – as well as all the corrupt infiltrators – then maybe the police will overlook some of the charges against you. If you testify against your little cronies, it’ll potentially shave years off your own incarceration.”

  Max was much tougher than he looked. He glared into her eyes. “You’re stupid and naïve to think that I would ever help you with this. We own the police. You’re getting yourself into very deep water here.”

  “You don’t own all the police,” Dylan said. “A friend of mine is high up in the NYPD. He’s incorruptible. He’s interested in truth, justice, and a nice big promotion.”

  Max shook his head assertively. “Do your worst. I’m not ratting on my contacts.”

  “I’m sure they’d happily rat on you,” Dylan said.

  Max bit his lip and glanced away.

  “While you’re thinking about that…” Adam said. He stepped forward and removed the handcuff from his wrist, then he placed the briefcase on the couch between Max and Eleanor, opening it with a flourish.

  Max gasped. The case was full of bundles of freshly-minted bills. Adam grinned, clearly enjoying the negotiations – tycoon businessman that he was. “Face it, Max,” he said. “You’re going to jail. But if you give us the names of all the reporters who’ve used your services – with evidence against them – then we’ll give you this nice little nest egg for when you come out. What do you say?”

  Max’s mouth gawped like a hooked fish thrashing around on the riverbank.

  Joseph threw his hand to his hip, making him look powerful. “And we’ll need some dirt on Blair Robertson himself. He’s going to try to squirm out of this by threatening to blackmail us – he’s knows something about my brother that I need kept quiet. So we want something to keep his mouth shut. Okay?”

  Max’s shoulders crumpled in defeat and he rubbed his eyes.

  “So what do you say to our little deal, Max?” Eleanor asked. “Yes or yes?”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The next evening – after the private investigator had finished his second secret liaison with Ellie and given her all the info she needed – Joseph leaned against the sink in the disused kitchen at The Big Society offices and gazed up at the high ceiling. He felt so light and free. He was using this downtime to compose some lyrics about how totally fuckable Eleanor was. But he couldn’t lie to himself – his love for her resonated deeply within his bones. He’d been admiring her from afar for months, but now that he’d discovered the person she really was, he was falling hard. He’d always been inspired by her as his muse – their flirty banter had made him incredibly productive over the last six months. But now that he was getting to know her properly, there were dirty, sexy love songs to write in her honour. He grinned as he imagined throwing her over his shoulder and bringing her back here for a quick fuck right now. But she had work to do…

  This place reminded Joseph of an old industrial factory. The pipework was exposed and there were metal shafts running along the lofty ceiling and down the walls to the grubby floor. The neon lights were stark above, and everything shone with silver and grey – other than the old cracked red floor-tiles, which had definitely seen better days.

  Joseph could almost hear the ghosts of chefs barking out orders to subordinates, relishing the hustle and bustle of organised-chaos at their command. And then there was the huge printing press in the middle of the space where the stainless steel counters would’ve once stood. The archaic machine was currently silent and brooding. It reminded Joseph of an industrial weaving loom – and loom it did. Hungry to print new stories and spit them out.

  Well, Ellie would certainly have something juicy to feed it with soon, once she’d finished typing up her exposé of News Scape. She’d banished Joseph out here a while ago, to pound away at her laptop in the office out front – after Sasha had so kindly let them in and left them to it.

  Joseph checked his Rolex and saw that it was time to keep his date with his brother, so he grabbed his laptop and walked quietly through the eerie space. The other incongruous thing in this unusual room was the old store cupboard in the corner. It was like a telephone booth, with big glass windows that had been reinforced with criss-crosses of metal to prevent them from being smashed – but which allowed people to see inside. It was currently empty – full of nothing but dusty wooden shelves. There was a metal bolt on the outside of the heavy wooden door, which was strange. Joseph guessed it must’ve once been some sort of pantry. Or perhaps somewhere to store disobedient catering staff…

  Joseph set up his laptop on a small steel work-surface that had been left to cloud over, then he pushed a few buttons, and connected with Ivan.

  Ivan looked tired. His face was unshaven and his eyes were dull. “What news, little brother?”

  “It’s going well. Ellie’s working on her story right now.”

  “Glad to hear it… Maybe you can do this.”

  “Did you doubt me?”

  He paused to think about this. “Maybe. I guess I’m too cynical these days. Since I lost Samira.”

  “Don’t talk like that: she’s still alive. And so are you. And you love each other. You’ll see her again.”

  “Yeah, yeah. And how about you and your love, huh?”

  He grinned. “We’re seeing how it goes. She’s only just broken up with her fiancé.”

  “Life’s short, Joe. You never know what might happen. Do you love her?”

  He tried to act cool. “I guess.”

  “Do you think she loves you?”

  He shrugged. “Well, she’s human.”

  Ivan laughed. Then he fell serious. “So go tell her.”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “Joseph. Go tell her you love her.”

  Joseph chuckled. “Yeah, alright – I’ll wait ‘til she’s finished typing up her story. I still can’t believe how easy that private investigator crumbled at the prospect of ten grand in new bills. We’ve got everything now but Robertson’s inside leg measurement. Hey, you still coming home?”

  “Yeah, I’ve booked my flight for next Wednesday. I guess I’ll need to go see mom and dad and explain everything. Hopefully neither of them will have a heart attack.”

  “Then you’ll find Samira?”

  “Yep.” Ivan’s face broke out into a grin. “Jesus, I can’t wait… I’m gonna give her everything she wants. Anything she wants.”

  Joseph sighed. “I know what you mean: Eleanor wants to go to the beach. I wish I could take her away, but we need to get this News Scape thing resolved first. I wish there was some way to transport her there for an hour, you know. Into the summer sunshine.”

  “Well, I’m sure you can work something out.”

  “How do you
mean?”

  “I don’t know… Bring the beach to her, or something? I know you’ve got a good imagination – I’ve heard some of your song lyrics!”

  An idea blossomed in Joseph’s mind, but he put it on the backburner while he continued chatting to his brother. After they said their goodbyes, Joseph strolled towards the kitchen door. He knew Ellie needed peace and quiet to get on with her story, but surely it would be okay to sit and look at her for a while – fantasising about all the things he planned to do to her once she’d met her deadline.

  He pushed open the door and stepped out into the office, but as he glanced at Ellie’s desk, he realised she was standing up, frozen by fear beside her chair and staring at the front door. Joseph turned his head slowly and followed her terrified gaze – dreading what might be lurking there.

  His muscles tensed, preparing to fight as he realised Matthew was there, pinning Ellie with his glare. Looking ready to kill her.

  “Matthew,” Joseph growled as anger flashed through his chest. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you did to her, asshole! I owe you a trip to the emergency room.”

  Matthew’s eyes remained on Eleanor. “What do you actually see in this guy?”

  She stared at him in disbelief. “I’m sure you don’t really want me to answer that. What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I wanted you to know Robertson fired me. He said I wasn’t performing to the high standards of his company, but I’ll bet it’s got something to do with whatever’s going on between you and Stinger, huh? You must think it’s hilarious – me losing my fiancée and my job in the same week.”

  “You’re drunk,” Eleanor said. “Go home.”

  “Home? And be on my own?”

  “What did you expect?” Joseph asked. “Sympathy? After the way you treated her?”

  Matthew spun to face him. “You! You piece of shit – you ruined my life. I gave you everything, and this is how you repay me!”