The Billionaire's Affair: Billionaire Brothers (Tycoon Billionaires Book 2) (11 page)

Working in tourism with wealthy clients had given Sarah plenty of opportunities to rub shoulders with the rich and famous. However, nothing could’ve prepared her for tonight’s party at Orlov’s. Especially as she, Dylan, and Joseph now stood outside his medieval-looking door, about to gate-crash his eerie, secluded gothic mansion – which felt about as inviting as a haunted house of horrors. 

Orlov had actually invited Dylan to this soiree last week, but he’d initially declined, thinking he didn’t want to get too chummy with the husband of the woman he was screwing. But now everything had changed, and the timing of this party couldn’t be better – they needed to get that piece of blueprint and destroy it before it was too late.

Dylan tugged at the tasselled rope hanging from the granite porch, which made the doorbell clang. Sarah held his hand tight, trying to stave off her nerves. She glanced at Joseph… The three of them were keen to stick together, but they all knew
his
role here tonight. Orlov’s mother – Anna – was a shrewd powerful alcoholic with a penchant for handsome young men. It was well-known that years ago she’d been involved with the KGB and Russian mafia, and she’d raised her son with the same hardened love for corruption. Her husband had disappeared in mysterious circumstances about five years ago, and nowadays she ran casinos and nightclubs in London and Moscow – and she was
always
in the company of boy toys. One of the nastier British tabloids had infiltrated a sex party at one of her London casinos last year, where she’d been embroiled in an orgy with wealthy clients and eighteen-year-old prostitutes of both sexes. Shortly after that, she’d been arrested for trafficking young Russian women to work in the UK as lap-dancers, but – unsurprisingly – all charges had been dropped for reasons unexplained. Sarah desperately hoped they’d be able to find that blueprint this evening, because she was reluctant for this Russian family to have an even
stronger
hold over the UK courts than they already had.

Joseph looked happy and relaxed after yesterday’s reunion with Ivan, but Sarah knew he was probably feeling apprehensive about having to seek out and seduce Mrs Orlov in the hope of getting information from her. Sarah knew he’d have no trouble charming her – he looked devilishly handsome in his tux – but at almost-twenty Sarah feared he might be a little too old for Anna. But he’d have to do. It was that or Sarah would have to cozy-up with Orlov, and there was no way she wanted to do that. And Dylan wouldn’t allow it anyway – not even in the interest of world peace and national security.

Sarah stood tall, feeling glamorous in her designer dress. She’d enjoyed a shopping trip with Amy earlier, and they’d bonded while having their hair and nails done. Sarah knew she looked the part, but she hoped her nerves wouldn’t let her down. It was a simple plan: Dylan was going to keep Orlov talking while Joseph extracted the info from Anna, then Sarah and Joseph would use the info to find the blueprint. It was a terrible plan, but unfortunately a better one wasn’t forthcoming at the moment.

An idea suddenly struck Sarah as they stood on the stone doorstep. “Dylan, Mikhail said the blueprint is
safe
?”

“Yeah,” Dylan said. “Why?”

“I wonder if he meant, it’s
in
a safe. You know, like
a
safe.”

Dylan grinned. “My genius girl.”

Sarah opened her mouth to reply, but an elderly butler dressed in a tailcoat opened the front door. “Yes?”

“Hi, we’re here for the party,” Dylan said. “Dylan Quinlan. Orlov invited me. Right?”

The butler stepped aside. “Of course, sir. Do come in.”

The hallway was like a cathedral, with its ornate stone walls, engraved ceiling, and lavish spiral staircase leading to who-knew-where. Sarah realised that all those Russian businesses Orlov had conned back in Moscow had made him a very wealthy man.

“Come this way please,” the butler said, practically bowing as he walked. They followed him across the shiny black-and-white checked marble floor, which reminded Sarah of a giant chessboard. She wondered who was going to win the game.

Sarah glanced over at the sound of a stern female Russian voice, and she saw Anna Orlov dressed in an expensive gown and diamonds, barking out orders to a couple of terrified waiters. Anna was gripping a lit cigarette in her long manicured fingers, and – as she turned her head to take a drag – her gaze fell upon Joseph, then lingered over his fit body.

“She’s spotted you already,” Sarah whispered. “Act cool.”

Joseph glanced over and threw Anna a trademark Quinlan smile, which would’ve melted even Sarah’s resolve had she been on the receiving end of it. Anna didn’t flinch – maintaining a hard expression. But Sarah knew she’d noticed Joseph, and that was good enough for now.

Dylan squeezed Sarah’s fingers gently in his own, as the butler led them through an engraved oak door and into the huge reception room where a hundred other smartly-dressed people were gathered. An eerie silence hit Sarah as they entered, and she suddenly felt afraid. Wasn’t this supposed to be a party? Had they been set up? The checkerboard floor motif continued through here and Sarah felt compelled not to stand on any of the lines between the squares in case they absorbed her. This room was like a museum, with expensive artefacts and a massive chandelier hanging from the decorative ceiling. Sarah steeled herself, trying
not
to feel as if she was an antelope in the lion’s den at feeding time.

She spotted Orlov standing with a group of other stern-looking Russian men, and she suddenly realised that he was in the middle of addressing the entire room, making a speech to his captivated guests – hence the silence. She exhaled. The butler offered her, Dylan, and Joseph a drink from a tray of Champagne glasses, then he retreated.

Sarah sipped her Champagne and listened to Orlov’s smooth Russian voice. “…And of course, I will not rest until justice has been done. It is with a heavy heart that I ask you now to raise a glass for my dearest love, Natalia. May she rest in peace.”

“To Natalia,” came the toasts from his guests.

“To Natalia,” Dylan said loudly, holding aloft his Champagne glass and leaning coolly against the doorframe.

Orlov’s face flashed with angry panic, then he composed himself. “Ah, Dylan Quinlan has decided to visit my humble home!”

Orlov drifted over to greet them as the other guests started to chat amongst themselves. The string quartet in the corner of the room struck up a gentle waltz, which calmed Sarah’s nerves slightly. She sipped her Champagne and tried to focus her racing thoughts.

Orlov greeted Dylan with a self-assured smile and they shook hands.

“And who have you brought with you?” Orlov asked, scrutinising Sarah with a salacious glance – which wasn’t entirely appropriate for a man who was so devastated about the death of his beloved Natalia.

“This is Sarah,” Dylan said. “My… um, wife.”

Dylan threw Sarah a sheepish grin. But actually, she felt quite proud to be introduced like that.

“It’s a pleasure,” Orlov said, shaking Sarah’s hand. She blushed at his touch. Don’t look into his eyes! He was unbelievably gorgeous – like a demon of temptation in Gucci.

“And this,” Dylan said, “is my brother Joseph Quinlan.”

“Delighted to meet you,” Orlov said, shaking his hand, too. He turned his attention back to Dylan. “I’m very happy that our sponsorship deal is still going ahead, Dylan, despite all which has been happening with my dearest Natalia.”

“Me too, Vladimir. In fact, I’d hoped to discuss some of the finer details with you tonight.” Dylan turned to Sarah and Joseph. “Why don’t you two go mingle? Me and Vlad are going to talk ‘shop’ for a bit.”

Joseph nodded and slipped out the door. Sarah planned to join him, so she opened her mouth to say she’d see Dylan soon, but a commotion on the other side of the room made them glance over.

With the force of a nuclear explosion, a tense atmosphere swept across the room. Sarah watched with dread as one of the Russians – who’d been standing loyally with Orlov a moment ago – was now frantically waving his hands and shaking his head. The man looked terrified, even though he was strongly built and battle-scarred. The other ice-cold members of Orlov’s gang were closing in on him, speaking sharply in Russian, and looming ominously as if they were about to rip him to pieces in front of everyone. Sarah couldn’t understand what they were saying, but she caught one word of English: “Traitor!”

Orlov remained totally cool. “So sorry, Mr Quinlan. You will excuse me. It seems the inner-circle is having the urgent meeting.”

“The inner-circle?” Dylan asked.

“Yes. This is our name for ourselves. The ruling oligarchs of Russia.”

Dylan raised an eyebrow. “The Russian President might not be too pleased to hear you calling yourselves ‘rulers’.”

Orlov chuckled condescendingly. “Nonsense. The President is one of us. But, alas, he could not be here tonight.”

Orlov strode over to join his comrades and harshly reminded them that they currently had an audience, so they ushered the treacherous man out the room. One of Orlov’s comrades – a snarky-looking man with glasses – draped a supportive arm around the man’s shaking shoulders like a paedophilic uncle. He looked terrified.

“I wonder what’s going to happen to him,” Sarah said.

Dylan shrugged, still watching the little group leave. “God knows.”

“He’s so arrogant,” Sarah said. “Orlov, I mean. He’s horrid.”

“He is. Pretty handsome, though, huh?”

Dylan threw her a knowing grin. She laughed. “I didn’t notice.”

Dylan cupped her chin and kissed her on the lips. “I think he’s blinded by his own self-worth. I know his type – a coward on his own, when he’s not protected by his bodyguards or his political cronies.”

Sarah sipped her Champagne. “It looks like his cronies don’t deal with traitors very well. I think they’d be fascinated to discover that Orlov was married to a spy. Shall we tell them now?”

Dylan chuckled and squeezed her on the shoulder. “Let’s do what we came here for. We need to somehow get our hands on that piece of the blueprint and destroy it. Then we can deal with Orlov.”

“Or let
them
deal with him,” Sarah said.

“Yeah,” Dylan said. “I like the way you think. Come on, let’s go look around while their backs are turned. Where’s Joseph gone?”

Regardless of how corrupt and evil the Orlov family were, there was one thing Sarah couldn’t deny – they were incredibly attractive. Mrs Orlov was beautiful and glamorous, and as Sarah and Dylan wandered back out to the lavish checkerboard hallway, they discovered Joseph leaning against the marble bannister of the spiral staircase, gazing into the Russian woman’s eyes, and lighting her cigarette for her like a film-noir hero – maintaining such smouldering eye contact that his gaze could’ve done the job on its own. Mrs Orlov blew the smoke out of her mouth in the sexiest femme-fatale style that Sarah had ever seen outside a movie. She sipped her Champagne and continued to flirt coolly with Joseph.

“Boy wonder’s in action,” Dylan said.

“Time to set the plan in motion,” Sarah replied.

They strolled over and joined Joseph. The sexual tension sizzled.

“Hey,” Joseph said with a grin. “This is Anna – Vladimir’s mother. I was just telling her how astounded I was that she’s the mother of a twenty-five-year-old. I mean, she looks so
young
.”

Anna’s face didn’t flicker. Sarah knew she wasn’t stupid – you didn’t attain her sort of wealth and power by being a pushover. Her demeanour oozed coolness.

“I was a child-bride,” she said in a smooth Russian accent.

Joseph shot her a suggestive grin. “Fascinating.”

The two gazed into each other’s eyes again. The magnetism between them was so intense now that it was beginning to warp the air. Sarah half-expected to see the floor tiles cracking and the stone walls crumble.

“Well, if you’ll excuse us,” Anna said. “We were just about to find somewhere private, weren’t we, Joseph?”

Joseph clinked his Champagne glass against hers. “We were.”

Sarah’s mind unravelled. Change of plan: Joseph could keep Mrs Orlov occupied, while she and Dylan had a look around. “Er, do you live here with your son?” Sarah asked. “It’s a truly beautiful home.”

“This is our London home, yes.”

Dylan turned on the charm. “I’d sure love a tour, Mrs Orlov, if we’re allowed? Me and Sarah are currently in the process of buying a new place in London and we need some inspiration. Right, honey?”

Sarah nodded. “Absolutely.”

Joseph draped his arm around Anna’s shoulders. He spoke quietly in her ear, but loud enough for Sarah and Dylan to hear. “Why don’t we give my brother and his wife a quick tour, then we can sneak off and I can ravish you?”

She smiled coolly at Joseph. “Yes.” She looked down her nose at Sarah and Dylan. “Come this way.”

Sarah shot Dylan an apprehensive glance. He smiled reassuringly and held her hand. Just act cool. We’re not doing anything wrong… this is for Ivan…

They all walked up the huge marble staircase, and Anna led them along a lavish corridor that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a royal palace. Dylan pretended to be interested in the expensive art that hung from the walls.

“You have exquisite taste, Anna,” Dylan said. “Unless I’m mistaken, this is an original Standinsky painting. It must be priceless?”

“Yes,” she said. “It hung in the Tsar’s palace before the Revolution. But now we Orlovs have acquired it.”

Dylan chatted politely with her about the intricate brushstrokes and colours. Sarah was impressed by his knowledge of art, but she was even more impressed with Anna’s audacity – it was obvious that this painting should’ve been hanging in a museum in Russia for the people to enjoy.

After showing them a couple of quite dull-looking guest rooms, Anna threw open the next sturdy door. “And this is Vlad’s office.”

Dylan strode inside. “Interesting. This is exactly the sort of office I’ve been imagining for myself.”

Anna threw him a skeptical glance. “Really, Mr Quinlan?”

It seemed unlikely. Vlad’s tastes leaned towards the extravagant – the polished mahogany floor, heavy embroidered drapes, and gothic furniture hardly seemed like Dylan’s style. This office reflected Vald’s opinions of himself – a cut above the rest; deserving of the most opulent and expensive things. The solid antique desk was gilded with brass; the walls were covered in decadent canvases and gold-plated frames.

“Is there a safe in here?” Sarah blurted. Her face flashed with guilt and she cursed herself for letting her nerves burst out.

“Er, yeah,” Dylan said. “Because I’m hoping to get a good quality safe for my office, right? And I find your son’s tastes so inspiring.”

Joseph pulled Mrs Orlov close and nuzzled her neck, hoping to distract her from Sarah’s faux pas.

It seemed to work. She laughed at Joseph’s attention, softening at his touch. “Yes, I think the safe is in that closet over there. And now I insist we must continue with the tour.”

Sarah held up her hands. “Oh, but–”

“No,” Anna demanded. “Now. We leave this room
now
.”

Sarah glanced at Dylan. She guessed from Anna’s tense demeanour and desperation to get them out of here that this must be where the precious blueprint was
currently being
stored. Over there in the safe. They were so close, but it felt like miles away. How the hell were they going to get at it?

“Okay,” Dylan said calmly. “We’d love to see more of your home.”

He draped his arm around Sarah’s shoulders and they all strolled back out into the hallway. Anna closed the office door firmly. “And along here we have the games room…”

They followed her along the plush corridor. Sarah’s palms itched with the feeling that they were heading in the wrong direction. Away from their mission. But Dylan suddenly halted in front of another priceless painting and inspected it.

“Hmm… the ambience in this painting really expresses the emotional state of the artist at the time. The colours, brushstrokes, and contours speak volumes, telling me how –”

Joseph reached out and massaged Anna’s shoulders. He practically purred into her ear. “Hey, shall we go somewhere more private? Your bed-chamber for example?”

She melted at his touch. “Oh yes… I’d love to show you my bed.”

“Well… I’d love to see it.”

Joseph tugged her hand, but Anna turned to speak to Dylan and Sarah, as if she planned to warn them to stay away from the office.

Joseph interjected by wrapping her in his arms. “Come on, Anna. I need to kiss those gorgeous lips of yours.
And
everywhere else on your wonderful body.”

“Oh, but I should show your brother back down–”

Anna whooped and squealed as Joseph picked her up in both arms. Sarah could see she was heavier than the women Joseph was
accustomed
to sweeping off their feet, but he managed to remain unruffled. He kissed her passionately on the lips. “I’m gonna make you come so hard you won’t even be able to remember your own name!”

Anna giggled girlishly, then threw Dylan and Sarah a slightly threatening glance as Joseph carried her off down the corridor. Sarah and Dylan stood there frozen, waiting for the footsteps and laughter to fade.

Sarah unfroze first. “He’s turning into the perfect Quinlan man, isn’t he?”

“What, you mean charming, fun, delightful?”

“Manipulative, dominating, pushy…”

Dylan pulled her into his arms. “I think she’s more than happy to let my brother give her something enjoyable.” He kissed Sarah hard, causing lust to surge through her body. “How about we make
our
mark in here? Let’s go back to Orlov’s office – you could crawl on the desk on all-fours and I can claim you like a lion.”

She breathed hard, pushing away her arousal. “Dylan… We need to get that safe open before Anna comes back.”

He cupped her chin and gazed into her eyes. “Yeah, okay. We can fuck like animals later.”

Sarah laughed at his one-track mind, then they held hands and sped back down the hallway, where they snuck into the office like a couple of thieves – which was precisely what they intended to be. Sarah watched as Dylan strode over and threw open the antique closet. There was a free-standing steel box inside, about the size of a microwave oven. He ran his hands over it, but it was as impenetrable as a block of wood.

Sarah closed the heavy office door – hopefully ensuring they wouldn’t get caught – then she strode over to join him. “Any ideas of how to crack open a safe?”

“Pity I left my dynamite at home.”

An idea blossomed in Sarah’s mind. “It’s electronic, right? How about if we somehow arranged a power-cut?”

“It’ll be battery powered,” Dylan said. “Otherwise – as you say – one power-cut and it’s useless. I’ve actually got one of these in my office, and it comes with a standard passcode – I wonder if he’d be stupid enough not to change it?”

“Worth a try. Do you remember what the standard passcode is?”

“Yeah,” Dylan said. “
I
used it for the first three months. I guess I
was
stupid enough not to change it.”

Sarah watched as Dylan firmly prodded the buttons with his index finger. The keypad consisted of letters and numbers – like a telephone pad – and his selection flashed up on the LED screen as he typed. Dylan pressed the ‘enter’ button. Sarah held her breath.

Nothing happened.

“I know it might be too obvious,” Sarah said. “But what about his mother’s maiden name?”

Dylan’s eyebrows rose at the suggestion. “Good idea. You know what it is?”

“No. But we know a man who can easily find out for us.”

Dylan pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Hi, Joe… yeah, I know sorry. Listen, can you find out Mrs Orlov’s maiden name? What? No I don’t need her inside leg measurement… Oh, right, very funny. Okay, thanks, buddy.”

Dylan hung up. “Hmm…”

“Well?” Sarah asked.

“Oh. He’s still getting around to seducing her by the sounds of it.”

“No, I mean… what’s her maiden name.”

“Oh right. It’s Buzinsky. Anna Buzinsky.”

Dylan knelt in front of the safe and carefully pressed the letters for Buzinsky. Again nothing happened. “Nice try anyway.”

Sarah’s chest tightened with anticipation. How the hell were they going to crack this bloody safe open? She wrung her fingers nervously. “I bet she’s got tons of names. Russians do that, don’t they? Have loads of names.”

Dylan frowned at his phone. “Good point, sweetheart. Let’s check her Wikipedia page.”

Sarah’s mind buzzed as the seconds dripped thickly by. She was sure she could hear footsteps out in the hallway. But the carpet was heavy out there, making it easy to sneak up on this room...

Dylan scrolled through the webpage. “She’s got seven names. Anna Valentina Catherine Stefleez… I can’t even pronounce that one.” He glanced up. “Probably makes more sense in Russian, huh?”

Sarah gasped as an idea struck her. “The Russian alphabet!”

“What?”

Sarah opened her mouth to explain, but an alarm on Vladimir’s desk suddenly bleeped loudly, making her jump. The yelp was out of her lips before she could stop it. She threw her hands over her mouth.

“Shit,” Dylan whispered, composing himself. “It’s okay. It’s just his phone.”

They both stared at the ornate black telephone as it sat there ringing loudly on the desk like a traitor. What if someone heard it and came in? Orlov was still with his cronies, wasn’t he? Surely he wouldn’t answer his office phone this late at night, would he?

The expensive rug seemed to whirl under Sarah’s feet as she tried to remain upright against her thrashing heart. Dylan suddenly sprang to life, no longer able to stand the ringing that dominated the entire room – and Sarah’s brain. He strode over to the wall and ripped it out of its socket.

Sarah breathed deeply. Her hands were clammy, but she steeled her nerve. Surely they could do this.

Dylan strolled back over to the safe. “What were you saying, Sarah? About the Russian alphabet?”

“Er… um…?”

“Better make it quick, sweetheart. Just in case Orlov did hear his phone.”

“I was thinking… oh yeah! Maybe he would’ve spelled his mother’s maiden name with the Russian alphabet?”

Sarah grabbed her phone from her purse and opened up a translation webpage. She typed in the word ‘Buzinsky’, then clicked the button to translate it. She willed it to hurry. The screen refreshed and she gazed at what looked like nonsense: Бузинский. It was a bit like a personalised license plate when it tried to spell out a name but didn’t quite manage it – because the numbers didn’t quite resemble the letters they were meant to emulate. But maybe…

“Hey, Dylan,” she said. “Try typing in ‘6y3NHCKNN’.”

He frowned. “Okay.”

With trepidation, Dylan typed in the code, then they waited on the outskirts of space/time for what seemed like an eternity. Sarah held her breath; her skin prickled with anticipation… then she groaned with relief as the safe locks clunked heavily open – like the sound of sweet salvation. Her heart leapt with joy!

“Yes!” she shouted, punching the air. But then her stomach plunged straight to her knees like a crashing elevator as her ears caught the sound of two angry Russian male voices in the hallway, getting closer.