The Billionaire's Heir: Billionaire Obsession (Tycoon Billionaires Book 4)

by Julie Farrell

  Jake laughed. It seemed that him and Joseph Quinlan had something in common… Jake hated drug dealers too. But Joseph was naïve if he thought he could make the world a better place by removing a few gangsters from the streets. There would always be people like Langdon – carrying out shady deals across the border. But Joseph was young – he’d soon learn how things worked in the real world. Or perhaps he wouldn’t, now he was living in the bubble of his rockstar lifestyle.

  Jake thought back to how stupid he’d once been to think he could make a difference in the world by joining the NYPD and fighting crime. But all he’d gotten was bitter and impoverished, then wounded and rejected. Nowadays he knew everyone was simply out for themselves – and Jake was too. Okay, so Langdon might be a bad guy, but Jake felt entitled to a better life than this. Once this job was over, Jake planned to take his money and live the highlife in Los Angeles. Or perhaps Miami…

  He shook himself out his thoughts and realized it was ten o’clock so he grabbed his phone. Time for his daily call with the man who was promising to make him very rich for doing very little.

  “Hey, Mr. Langdon,” Jake said, as his client answered. “I’ve got something more interesting today.”

  “Oh yes?” Mr. Langdon asked in his clipped Mid-West accent.

  “Yeah. Mrs. Langdon went out to Freer with one of your new ranch hands earlier. They met some woman there in a diner – I’ve yet to discover who she was. But Mrs. Langdon seems to be getting chummy with this cowboy…”

  Jake let this hang in the air. It was his job to report the facts, not stir the pot.

  Mr. Langdon sighed, then he went pensively quiet. Jake wondered whether this was actually why he’d been following Mrs. Langdon around over the last few weeks. To find out if she was having an affair. Perhaps she’d done it before in… wherever they’d come from. He’d dealt with plenty of suspicious spouses before.

  “Do you have any information on the man?” Mr. Langdon asked, sounding irritated.

  “No sir,” Jake lied. “I hadn’t seen him before today, so I guess he’s only just been employed on the ranch. Let me dig a little deeper. Is there anything you want me to do for now?”

  “No… just keep an eye on them. Tell me if anything untoward happens.”

  “Sure, okay.”

  Jake finished the call, hoping Mrs. Langdon would be safe tonight after that revelation. He actually like her a lot, even though they’d never spoken. She seemed like a sweet girl who’d inadvertently gotten caught up in her jealous husband’s illegal contraband deals. Maybe it would be better if she ran off with a cowboy. Not that he was really a cowboy of course – Jake knew that for definite now. He was Ivan Quinlan…

  Jake tore open another cigarette pack, lit up, then turned Ivan’s driver’s license over and over in his fingers, studying every detail of his chiseled face and big brown eyes.

  Jake wasn’t sure why he’d lied to Langdon about having nothing on Ivan. It certainly wasn’t because he’d wanted to protect him – it was probably because he wanted to confront Ivan himself. He was looking forward to revealing the dirty little secret he’d been carrying around all these years. And what a showdown that was going to be.

  Chapter Ten

  After Ivan had calmed down last night and they’d made love, Samira had snuck back to the ranch-house and slept in her own bed, missing him and his gorgeous arms.

  She awoke this morning, feeling excited and optimistic, and drifted to the dining room for breakfast – where Mr. Langdon was already tucking into his eggs and bacon, while reading his newspaper.

  Samira still couldn’t figure Langdon out. He was superficially friendly, with a kind face, big eyes, and laughter lines. He possessed a full head of hair, and he was in great shape for a man in his forties. And he was obviously doing well to be able to afford this ranch… and of course there was the matter of the suitcases. But at times he seemed gruff and moody. Today the seething tension crackled from him like static in a storm. Had he found out what she’d been up to with Ivan?

  “Morning.” She eased herself into a seat at the other end of the long mahogany table.

  He didn’t look up from his newspaper. “Good morning, Samira.”

  Samira reached over and grabbed the box of muesli that the housemaid always put out for her, along with a jug of milk. She loved this room – the huge windows gave sweeping views of the entire ranch on three sides, and the high ceilings were decorated with oak beams – giving it a farmhouse feel. Every morning she sat here contemplating how lucky she was… but today she just wanted to get her passport and leave. She’d always been a bit of a rebel back in Iran, and she’d hoped America would allow her to be free – to express herself. But on this ranch she felt trapped and stifled. Mr. Langdon had offered her salvation, but he’d clipped her wings.

  All she wanted was Ivan. He was all she’d ever wanted…

  She poured the milk over her muesli, hoping to warm Langdon’s chilly mood with some small talk. “Oh, here’s a strange thing. Yesterday I was standing by the creek near the servants’ cottages, and the bank suddenly gave way. It was so odd… it felt as if someone had loosened it. No one’s been doing any work there, have they?”

  He rustled his newspaper. “What were you doing at the creek by the servants’ cottages?”

  “Just riding my horse… enjoying the sunshine. I was lucky because one of the ranch hands pulled me out. I can’t swim… did you know that?”

  He lowered his newspaper and gazed at her. “Yes, you’d mentioned it.”

  His sinister tone sent a wave of apprehension up her spine. She opened her mouth to enquire about her passport, but he spoke over her. “So where did you go yesterday then, hmm?”

  “Oh… I just had a coffee with some new guy… a ranch hand. We got chatting. Apparently he’s… we’ve got similar interests.”

  Langdon raised an eyebrow. “You’re not planning to run off with a cowboy, are you? After all I’ve done for you?”

  “No, of course not. I just wanted to get out of here for a while, but I couldn’t find you to check if it was okay.”

  He inspected her with a blank expression. “If I find out you’ve been lying to me, I’ll be very upset. Now I’ll ask you again – have you got friends or family in America?”

  She chuckled nervously. She hadn’t told him about her cousin Tariq because he was technically dead – just like Ivan. Had the private investigator given Langdon some information? “I’ve told you, I don’t know anyone – just the people I knew in college, but I never see them and obviously they don’t know where I am.”

  He sipped his coffee. “Good.”

  “But I was wondering… have you had any news from the immigration department yet? With regards to my visa application?”

  “Not yet – you know what these bureaucrats are like.”

  “And they actually have got my passport, right?”

  “Of course. Why do you ask?”

  “Well… I’d like it back.”

  “Like it back? Samira, they’re in the middle of processing your application to stay here.”

  “I know.” She realized she shouldn’t be too obvious about wanting her passport – in case he got suspicious. She tried to be subtle. “I wish they'd speed things up. I was thinking I might give them a call, or even drop by and talk to them about it myself. I really would like my passport back.”

  Anger flashed across his face. “Don’t you trust me?”

  “Sure I do, but–”

  “Everything I’ve asked is simply for your own safety, Samira. Think of Quin. You don’t want to draw attention to yourself, do you? Get the immigration people asking too many questions? You don’t want to be deported, do you?”

  It sounded like a threat. It sounded like ‘unless you do as you’re told, I’ll tell the authorities about you.’ The thought of returning to Iran filled Samira with dread – but with any luck it wouldn’t come to that. She just needed her passport and Clara’s friend could hopefully help
her stay. She swirled her spoon in her muesli, plucking up the courage to ask the next question. “Look, there’s this guy who seems to be following me whenever I leave the ranch.”

  “Is there?” Langdon had now resumed reading his paper. He sounded uninterested.

  “Yes. Is he your guy? Or is he one of those immigration people you’re so worried about?”

  Mr. Langdon smiled thinly. “He’s my guy – I’m employing him to protect you, okay. Just in case any others cowboys think they can take you out for coffee.”

  Dread slunk through Samira’s heart as she realized she wasn’t a guest here, but a prisoner – just as Ivan had said. Her polite act dropped away. It was time to show Langdon the feisty Samira. “Listen, I’m going to need my passport back as well as my other personal things you’ve got of mine. My driver’s license – I need my driver’s license.”

  He dropped his fork making it clatter. “I’ve told you, your passport is with the immigration people. You don’t want to ruin your chances of getting a visa, do you? You’re making it sounds as if I’m the enemy here, Samira. I just want to help.”

  She could tell from the veiled panic in his eyes that he was bullshitting. The sooner she got her ID and got the hell out of here, the better. He’d been helpful while she’d been so lost and alone, but now Ivan was back, and she could see through his crap. She didn’t know exactly why he wanted her here, but just that he did – and he wasn’t keen to let her leave, which was extremely worrying.

  “At least let me have my driver’s license. Just in case the police stop me with any of your contraband.”

  He feigned shock. “Contraband? Whatever do you mean?” He narrowed his eyes. “You haven’t looked in the cases, have you?”

  “No. I told you, I don’t want to know.”

  He stared at her for a moment, and she maintained eye contact, suddenly not afraid or beholden to him anymore. He looked away, then he pushed back his chair – making it scrape on the polished floorboards – before standing up to leave the room.

  Samira’s heart thrashed with worry, tensing as he slammed the dining room door behind him. She gazed at her uneaten breakfast, wondering where the hell he’d gone in such a temper. What if he planned to hurt Quin? Or take him away from her? No one was touching her baby. She started to stand up with the intention of going after him, but he strode back into the dining room and threw her driver’s license onto the table in front of her.

  “There. Happy now?”

  She glared at him. “Thank you.”

  Samira picked up her spoon and ate in silence, with the fallout from their row sizzling in the air between them. He slurped his coffee and went back to reading his paper, as Samira’s mind raced with questions about why he was so keen to keep her here. Why did he want assurances that she didn’t know anyone in America? It didn’t make any sense.

  Unless? No…

  She just needed to be patient for a bit longer and find out what Clara’s friend in immigration said. He’d know whether Langdon really had sent them her passport. And if he hadn’t, she was determined to get back from him – before leaving with Ivan and Quin, and moving as far away from Langdon and those suitcases as she possibly could.

  Chapter Eleven

  A half-hour later, Samira strode out of the house with her head held high, feeling her confidence slowly trickling back – which was interesting because she hadn’t even realized that her confidence had been so undermined since coming here. But now she understood – as she marched in the sunshine toward Lola’s cottage – that she’d merely been existing on this ranch. Waiting for something… but she hadn’t known what.

  And now she knew. No, it wasn’t actually Ivan Quinlan who she’d been waiting for – although his presence – his love – certainly helped. But it was herself she’d been waiting for. She realized now that she’d lost herself after Ivan had ‘died’. A little piece of her had died with him.

  But now she could feel her strength and power rushing back. And she wasn’t going to take anymore shit from Langdon. She wanted her passport back, she wanted to leave, and she wanted to make a family with Ivan and Quin far away from here.

  Elation washed through her as she felt herself becoming stronger and lighter.

  She knocked on Lola’s door and greeted her with a hug, then she strode over to see her precious little one. He was already awake and sucking his toes on his play-mat, and he was – as always – delighted to see her. Samira’s adoration for him strengthened every single day. He was her true love, brightening up her life with his adorable smile.

  Lola started to sweep the floor as Samira picked up Quin and danced with him to the mariachi music on the radio – making him laugh.

  Lola swayed as she danced with the broom. “You are like a sunbeam, Mrs. Langdon.”

  Samira chuckled. “Thank you, Lola… We love Lola, don’t we, Quin?” She kissed her baby on the cheek. “You’re going to get the best start in life, my little monkey. Don’t tell anyone, but Mommy’s going to take you away from here.”

  Lola stopped sweeping. “Away, Mrs. Langdon?”

  Samira smiled sadly. She knew how much Lola loved them both. “Sorry. It’s what I need to do.”

  Lola beamed a smile. “With your sexy cowboy?”

  Samira burst into laughter. “Hopefully. You won’t say anything, will you?”

  Lola resumed sweeping the floor. “I know nothing. But if you need a nanny, you ask me. Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  Samira held Quin close and enjoyed the feel of his little heart beating against hers. This guy was her entire world, and all the bad things she’d done recently, she’d only done because she’d thought it’d been the best for him.

  But now his daddy was in town and she was ready to leave... Speaking of which, she needed to go see her other true love…

  She kissed her little boy goodbye, knowing he was in safe hands with Lola, then she made her way in the sunshine toward Ivan’s cottage.

  He answered the door looking gorgeous dressed in a pair of jeans with no shirt on. Samira tried not to gawp too much, but he’d shaved his beard, making him look delicious and clean – as well as masculine and rugged.

  There was an energized sparkle in his eyes today, as if he’d been invigorated by their reunion too. “Good morning, goddess.”

  “Morning,” she said, feeling like a goofy teenager in his presence. She wanted to throw her arms around him and kiss him, but they needed to be careful – just in case the private investigator or even Langdon was lurking.

  “Coming in?” he asked.

  She stepped into the stuffy cabin and closed the door, then he pulled her close and kissed her hard.

  “I missed you,” he said, between kisses. “I need to be with you all the time. Is Quin okay?”

  “Yeah, I just saw him. He’s so beautiful, Ivan. He looks more like you each day.”

  “I need to get you both out of here.”

  She rested her head on his strong shoulder. “I spoke to Langdon at breakfast and he admitted he is paying that guy to follow me. He gave me back my driver’s license, but he insists that my passport has been sent away to the immigration department.”

  “Well, Clara’s friend can confirm that for us soon.” Ivan stepped over to the creaky wooden table and grabbed a shirt to throw over his shoulders. “But there’s only one way to find out what’s going on here, and that’s to go straight to the source.”

  “I did, Ivan, but he–”

  “No, not Langdon – he’s obviously not planning on telling you anything. So we’ll just have to go to the other source, won’t we?”

  “The private investigator?”

  “Exactly.” He reached out and caressed her cheek. “How about we take a little trip somewhere secluded and find out what his fucking game is.”

  Samira’s heart flitted like an excited racehorse. Suddenly, she felt ready to take on the world and win.

  Her former rebellious self surged as she strode with Iva
n across the ranch, feeling as if they were outlaws on the run. Her body buzzed with exhilaration and they halted at his truck, which was looking shinier than usual. Samira wondered whether he’d been working on it this morning in the hazy sunshine. It seemed to gleam with the attention he’d bestowed upon it. She knew how it felt.

  They climbed in and Ivan kissed her hard, before throwing the truck into gear and cruising down the long driveway toward the ranch gates. Usually whenever Samira saw the private investigator waiting for her she felt guilty or angry. But today Ivan was playing a game of cat and mouse. And Samira felt as powerful as a tigress.

  She glanced in the wing mirror. “He’s following.”

  “Great. Let’s see if how far he’s willing to go.”

  They hurtled down the road, pretending they were trying to shake him off, but actually they were leading him into their trap. The rushing landscape enhanced Samira’s excitement as it whizzed past the window, and she saw the scenery change from lush green to barren and scrubby as they left civilization. The huge blue sky wrapped all around them, and the midday sun glistened on the black road as they drove through the stark landscape. There were hardly any buildings around now, and as the time sped on the highway narrowed and became a dusty dirt-track, tapering at the sides so there was just enough space for two cars to stand side-by-side. Ivan continued driving, wondering how far he’d need to go, and he was relieved when finally the road ahead became a dead-end, blocked off by a disused crumbling concrete building.

  It was desolate, deserted, and dingy.

  Ivan eased the truck to a halt and yanked up the parking brake, leaving the engine running.

  “What are you doing?” Samira asked. “He’s behind us, and we’re facing a dead-end.”

  “Trust me, sweetheart.” He revved the engine. “Hold on to something, okay.”

  He glanced in the rear-view mirror and watched as the private investigator’s car halted cautiously twenty yards away. Ivan felt like a gunslinger about to take part in a shootout. His fingers twitched as he reached down and gripped the parking brake, easing it off with a click, then he carefully set the truck into reverse and – keeping his gaze fixed on the car behind – he suddenly came to life and jammed his foot down on the gas, propelling them backward.