The Russian Billionaire: A Romantic Suspense Novel

by Georgia Le Carre

  “Meet me at the usual,” he says, and the line goes dead.

  I know instantly that something has gone very wrong.

  I toss my phone into my briefcase and put it on top of my suitcase in the car. Then I ask my chauffeur to drive Raine back to her apartment.

  “Where are you going?” she asks, a frown on her forehead.

  “Remember, the less you know the better,” I say, before I kiss her goodbye.

  Then I hail a cab. As the cab makes it way slowly through the city traffic, I stare impatiently out of the window. For Thorne Blackborne to call me directly on my phone means something big has gone down and whatever it is concerns me.

  When I get to the seedy little café designated as our meeting place, I nod at the man at the register, and go straight to the back of it. I run up the threadbare carpet on the stairs and knock at one of the two doors on the first floor.

  “Come,” Thorne calls.

  As I open the door I see him rising from one of the armchairs and come towards me. He looks troubled.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Vasilly is dead.”

  “What?” I explode.

  “He was murdered last night.”

  I blink with shock. “How?”

  “Stabbed in his room.”

  “Stabbed in his room?” I echo blankly. In my mind I can still see him, nervous, but determined to do his best. He offered me Vodka that he had brought from Russia. We sat together for five minutes drinking and talking. A good man. And young. So young. He has a family too. A wife and a little girl. Then we shook hands and I left.

  “They’re coming for you,” Thorne says.

  I nod. I already understood that.

  “Who did you tell?”

  I can’t think. I don’t want to think. “Tell?”

  Thorne scowls. “Who knew you were meeting him?”

  “No one.” I swallow hard. “Only the girl. Only Raine.”

  A shadow passes his eyes. “Then it is her.”

  I shake my head. “No. It is not her.”

  “I’m sorry, Konstantin,” he says softly. “I will start to make preparations. Do what you have to.” Then he goes to the door and opens it. I stand in the middle of the room and listen to his footsteps die away. My hands clench into fists. There must be another explanation. There must be. And yet, I know, just as Thorne did, that there is no other explanation.

  My first instinct was right.

  She was always the honey trap. Always.

  I just made the mistake of thinking with my dick.

  Raine

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vGwIaL0jOUg

  Think Twice

  * * *

  We’re still sitting at the kitchen table eating the sweets and delicacies I brought back from Amalfi and talking about all the things I had seen when my phone pings with a text from Konstantin.

  I’m on my way to your apartment.

  Call me when you get outside.

  I spring out of my chair instinctively.

  “What’s going on?” my mom asks.

  “He’s coming here and he wants me to go outside and meet him.”

  “He, as in Konstantin?” Maddy asks eagerly.

  I nod blankly.

  “Well, ask him to come up then,” Mom says.

  “Yes, ask him to come up. I want to thank him myself.”

  I nod, but distractedly. My antenna is up. Something is not right. I knew something was not right from the moment he got that phone call as we disembarked from the plane. I leave the apartment and run down the corridor. I call the elevator and can barely stand still while I wait for it to arrive. When it comes, I rush inside and jam my hand on the button with the faded G printed on it.

  I stare impatiently at the lighted floors as the old elevator slowly makes its way down. As soon as I get outside I call him. To my surprise, he is standing about ten feet away, watching me. I run up to him. His eyes are so cold and distant I come to a dead stop a few feet away from him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Let’s walk,” he says.

  We walk in silence until we get to a small playground. He turns towards me.

  “Vasilly is dead.”

  My jaw drops with shock. “The Russian hacker?”

  There is absolutely no emotion in his face. “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “Murdered last night in his room.”

  “How can that be? You met him last…” Suddenly it dawns on me. “He was murdered after you left him.”

  “No one else knew about my trip, about my meeting, except you.”

  I take a step back in shock. “What? You don’t think I had anything to do with it. How could—” I stop suddenly. I can feel the blood draining from my face.

  “Who did you tell?” he asks, taking a step forward. I can see hope in his face. He thinks I’m going to give him a name. He thinks I’m innocent. He wants me to be innocent.

  I can no longer hide what I have done. “I didn’t tell anyone about the trip I swear, but I’m not innocent.”

  The light in his eyes dies. They stare at me listlessly. “Tell me what happened.”

  I freeze. This was not the way I intended to tell Konstantin of my secret, but here this was it. The moment of truth was here.

  “I wasn’t at the auction by chance. I was paid $50,000 by a woman on behalf of her client to be there. All of the girls you saw that night were paid by her. We were paid to be there and if we were picked by you we had to switch one of the paintings in your office. I was told that the painting had sentimental value to someone important and you had stolen it and he wanted it back. I know it sounds like complete nonsense to you, and it does to me too now, but at that time I was desperate for money. I would have done almost anything to get the money to save Maddy and it seemed like such an innocent simple thing to do. What harm could it do? You have to understand, Konstantin, I didn’t know anything about your secret project or the kind of man you were. I just thought you were another selfish billionaire. I was stupid.”

  “So you switched the painting?” he asks icily.

  “Yes, I switched it. I had no choice. I understood by the time we came back from London that I had been completely duped. I tried to give them the money back and refused to do the job, but when I told them they threatened to hurt Maddy and Mom if I did not complete the deal. I guessed the painting was most probably a listening device, so I devised a plan to do the job without actually doing it. I hung the picture up and I took it away the very next day by pretending to redecorate your office. I thought that I had solved the problem by putting it away in one of your spare rooms, but apparently, I hadn’t.”

  Something flashes in his eyes, but it is gone as quickly as it had come. “Is it still in the spare room?”

  “No, I didn’t even trust it to be there so I threw it away.”

  “But it was too late. I made my travel arrangements known to them that morning before you got into decorate the room.”

  I reach out a hand towards him. “I’m sorry, I’m so, so, so sorry, Konstantin.”

  He takes a step back from me. “You betrayed me. You had so many chances to tell me and you didn’t.”

  I just stand there staring at him, pleading with my eyes, but he doesn’t soften. He looks at me with disgust. He doesn’t understand. I had no choice. They were going to hurt innocent little Maddy. I did my best in the circumstances.

  “I never want to see you again,” he says, his voice hard. It hits me like a bullet to my heart.

  I actually sway with horror. “I never knew what was at stake. I didn’t know my actions would get a man murdered.”

  For a split second I see something in his eyes. A torment. A terrible sadness. I see him swallow hard. “You didn’t get him murdered. He was a dead man walking. All you did was help them set the bear trap I walked into.”

  “How?”

  “They are trying to frame me for his murder.”

  “But you didn’t do it. I
will testify that you were with me the whole night.”

  He shakes his head. “No, you won’t.”

  “Yes, I will,” I cry desperately.

  “You have no idea what you have got yourself into.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “There will be no more money for Maddy’s treatment so you will sell yourself to the highest bidder again.”

  I stare at him aghast. “You’re not going to pay for Maddy anymore?”

  “Should I?”

  I stare at him in disbelief. Everything, everything has been shattered into a million pieces.

  He takes one last look at me, then he grits his teeth and walks away. I watch him, his long legs striding further and further away from me.

  The dream is over.

  The nightmare has begun. For Konstantin. For me. For Mom. And for poor, little Maddy.

  Raine

  Mom calls me to ask where I am. I’m too choked to talk about it so I tell her I’m running an errand and I’ll be back home soon. I walk to a bench and sit down. There is a little girl in a pair of brown dungarees. She pushes herself higher on the swing than any of the other children. I watch her mindlessly.

  How happy and carefree she seems to be.

  I can’t remember the last time I was like that. Maybe when we were still living on the farm. Her mother calls to her and she doesn’t wait for the swing to come to a stop before she flies off it. I watch as they walk away from the playground. Then I stand and start to walk home.

  Maddy is in the bath and my mom is getting ready to go to work. I want to tell her that Maddy’s operation has been cancelled but I just can’t bring myself to do it. I sit at the kitchen table and try to think. I just need to think. There must be a way out of this.

  When Mom comes into the kitchen I make some excuse to explain away why Konstantin didn’t come up.

  “Ah, well. Never mind. We’ll get to meet him when he comes here for dinner.”

  “Yes,” I say softly.

  “Right. I better be off. Will you be spending the night here or at his place?”

  “Er… here I guess.”

  “All right then. See you later. Take the chicken out of the freezer in about three hours, won’t you?”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  As soon as she leaves, I rush to my room and lie on my bed. The last thing I want to do is talk to Maddy. I feel so guilty I can’t even look at her hope-filled face. She never looked like that until I told her that her treatment was all covered and going through. That she was going to be fine again. And now I’m about to pull the rug out from under her.

  I throw myself on my bed and switch on the small TV in my room so she will not come in. I stare at the screen without really taking any of it in. All I am thinking of is how I can undo what I have done, to Konstantin, to Mom, and to Maddy. I want to cry, but I won’t let myself.

  Until a piece of news catches my attention and pulls me out of my misery. I sit up and immediately increase the volume.

  It is a breaking story about the mysterious stabbing of a Russian man believed to be a computer hacker in a hotel room in Italy. A Russian billionaire living in the States is being questioned in connection with this death, but they are not releasing more details at the present moment.

  The newscaster moves on to the next story and I slump back on the bed. Suddenly, my phone rings. I jump to it. It is an unknown number. I click accept.

  “Hello,” I say cautiously.

  “Hello, my dear. This is Helena Barrington. We met at the Iserby’s party.”

  I feel a cold, cold hand clutch at my belly.

  “I was wondering if you’d like to have some tea with me. My driver will pick you up in about an hour.”

  I’m too surprised to even answer her, but she carries on as if I have agreed.

  “Good. I’ll see you when you get here.”

  Then the line goes dead. I stare at my phone. Then I jump up and begin to pace my bedroom floor. How did she get my number and what does she want with me? I remember Konstantin telling me that I will not help him and that I had no idea what I had got myself into. Is this what he meant? Was she going to ask for my help?

  I consider calling her and telling her I won’t be coming, but something stops me. Not going will not help me or anyone else. I should go to meet the woman I am sure is the enemy so that I know what she is planning. Perhaps she will reveal something that I could use to help Konstantin.

  First I take the chicken out the freezer then I get into the shower. It feels wonderful to let the water pour down my head and body. As I stand under the warm cascade, my mind starts to clear. I’m determined to do everything in my power to undo the damage I have caused.

  By the time I get out of the shower I am no longer tense and jittery. Instead, I feel unusually calm and collected. She won’t beat me. I won’t underestimate her, but I won’t let her trick me. For sure, this is a trick. Konstantin thinks I betrayed him, that I can be bought and I will be bought by her, but I won’t.

  I’m smart, and I’ve always been good at finding solutions.

  As I pass the living room, Maddy is staring at her cell phone and smiling. The blue light of the screen makes her appear almost unreal. The sight makes me frown. It reminds me of the way Konstantin had spoken of the AI and the way it would take over the human consciousness.

  As soon as she gets better I will make sure that she goes out and has a life instead of living through her digital avatar.

  Going to my room, I quickly dry my hair so it falls in a straight shiny curtain down my back which I then put into a ponytail on my head. Then I change into one of the beautiful silk blouses Jane had chosen for me in London. I team it with a gorgeous Hermes scarf and a burnt orange skirt. Then I step into an expensive pair of court shoes with thick classy heels, the kind that she would appreciate.

  My phone pings. I look at it.

  I am your driver and I am waiting outside for you.

  I put my cell phone and credit cards into my brand-new designer purse and go into the living room. Maddy looks up from her screen. Her eyes widen.

  “Wow! You look fabulous. Are you off to see the billionaire?” she teases.

  “No, I’m off to see one of Konstantin’s friends. I’ll be back in time to make the dinner.”

  “Okay. Have fun.”

  “Thanks.” Then I go downstairs to meet my fate.

  Raine

  With artificial intelligence we are summoning the demon. You know all those stories where there’s the guy with the pentagram and the holy water and he’s like… yeah he’s sure he can control the demon… doesn’t work out.

  —Elon Musk

  Helena Barrington’s home is in Manhattan, facing the southern end of Central Park. From what I can see as I am led to meet her by a man with large sad eyes, it appears to be set on at least four floors. In terms of décor it is the opposite of what Konstantin’s apartment looks like. Konstantin’s apartment is modern and minimal and hers is like a French palace. There are antiques, statues, and old paintings, masterpieces I would guess, hanging on the walls.

  I am shown to a room with more Marie Antoinette style furniture. The ceilings are tall and the room is at once grand and intimidating. She is sitting on a cream sofa with a white dog on her lap. She appears to me to be impervious, inflexible, and utterly cold. It is almost like looking into the eyes of a reptile. There is nothing there. No emotion at all. No warmth at all.

  “Miss Raine Fillander,” the manservant announces in a formal tone.

  “Thank you, Horton. We are ready for tea whenever you are.”

  “Very good, Madam,” he says, and withdraws, closing the door.

  Her eyes scan me, noting all the designer stuff I have piled on myself. I can tell by the expression in her eyes that she has come to the impression I wanted her to get. She thinks I dressed this way because wearing expensive designer clothes is important to me.

  “Come in and sit down,” she invites.

  I w
alk over and take the seat opposite her. “You have a very beautiful home.”

  “Thank you,” she says, sounding bored.

  Then her dog suddenly jumps off her lap and comes towards me.

  “Cesar,” she calls, but it ignores her and sniffs at my ankle.

  “He’s getting on now and if you sit still, he’ll pee on your leg,” she warns.

  I don’t look up at her. I know exactly what she is doing. I grew up on a farm. I know and understand animals better than I do humans. This dog is not going to pee on me.

  A) There is no way this dog is not toilet trained.

  B) There is no way anyone in their right mind is going to let a dog soil such a fine and expensive carpet.

  She just wants to startle me, to put me at a disadvantage. Well, round one to me. I reach out a hand and scratch the top of its head and instantly, it stands on its hind legs and begs to come up on my lap. I pick it up and put it on my lap and look up at her. Just in time to see her eyes flash with fury. She is quick to veil it.

  So… she is jealous of her dog liking anyone else.

  But I don’t want her to be angry and jealous. I don’t want her to see me as a formidable opponent. I want her to underestimate me. Sun Tzu’s advice reverberates in my head, when able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must seem inactive; when we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away; when far away, we must make him believe we are near.

  “I love all animals,” I tell her. “I grew up on a farm, you see. You can take the girl from the farm, but you can’t take the farm from the girl.”

  I put the dog back down on the carpet, and it wanders back to her. She pats her thighs and it jumps back onto her lap.

  There is a soft tap on the door, before it opens and three women of either Mexican or South American descent appear. They are wearing black and white maids’ uniforms and wheeling trolleys of food. As I stare in surprise the women load all the food onto the table. There are all kinds of sandwiches, bagels, cakes, pastries, doughnuts, and pots of tea.