Hot Tycoons Boxset: A Contemporary Romance Boxset

by Emelia Blair

  I bid Ian goodbye, and I am in the car when I feel my phone ring. Staring at the unknown number, I hesitate before answering it. “Hello?”

  Heavy breathing.

  I feel a prickle at the back of my neck, but I repeat, “Hello?”

  I can feel Jacob’s eyes on me from the rear-view mirror.

  A high-pitched giggle that sounds a little crazy. He quickly cuts the call, and I keep staring at the phone, the eerie giggle making my blood chill.

  “Everything okay?”

  Jacob’s gruff voice makes me look up, and I say, slowly, “I don’t know.”

  I take a screenshot of the number and send it to Henry and, as an afterthought, to Ian, with a small message telling them what happened and asking if they can trace it.

  I stare out the window.

  That insane laugh has shaken me.

  I feel a shiver down my spine as I get out of the car to attend my first meeting of the day.

  “Agatha?”

  The familiar voice makes me turn around, and my surprise is genuine, “George?” He beams at me, and I give him a confused smile. “I thought you were in New York.”

  He walks over to me, and I notice his limp. “Yeah, I was. But I’ve been back for a few days. Had to see a buyer.”

  “Are you okay? Your leg—” On closer notice, I can see the small scrape on his forehead. My mouth goes dry. “You… Were you in an accident?”

  He gives me a pleasant smile. “Just a small one. This driver just went rabid. You’d think I’d run over her dog or something.”

  I find myself taking a step back. “Is that so?”

  He takes a step forward, his eyes glittering. “Yeah. But I plan to take care of her.”

  11

  Ian

  The ring box feels heavy in my pocket.

  I decided not to go into work today, wanting to deal with some personal matters, and my first stop was the bank to pick up the ring Mom gave me all those years ago.

  My phone is not charged and it bothers me that I hadn’t been able to talk to Agatha since this morning. Right now, I stand in the elevator of her building that leads to her floor and wait impatiently.

  I am just going to charge my phone in her office while I wait for Henry to drop off the documents. He is running late.

  The elevator dings and I stride out, my trench coat flapping around my legs, laptop tucked under my arm. I am so lost in my thoughts that I don’t see someone walking towards me, their head bent.

  It’s only after the impact had been made that I look up startled.

  Jenna looks up at me from where she is now sitting on the ground wearing a bewildered look. “Ian. What are you doing here?”

  I help her up. “I’m here to wait for Henry.” Jenna winces as she stands up and I give her a concerned look. “You okay?”

  She glances around the office, a quick look, and shakes her head. “I’m fine. I just fell down the stairs a few days back.”

  Now that she mentions it, I can see the heavy makeup on her face.

  “You fell?” I repeat, my eyes narrowing. “I thought you were sick.”

  She looks confused for a moment before stuttering, “Yeah, yeah. I was sick as well. And then I fell.”

  I glance around the room. “Where’s Nick?”

  I note the way she rubs her arms, a nervous gesture. “I don’t know.”

  “I thought you two were working together.”

  Something is wrong.

  Jenna is the most collected person in the office. I have never seen her like this.

  I step closer to her, lowering my voice. “Is everything okay, Jenna? Are you in trouble?”

  She looks agitated. “Yeah, uh, of course. Oh, you dropped something.”

  She leans down to pick up the ring box. “What’s this? Is this an engagement ring?”

  I feel a little sheepish. “Yeah. I’m going to ask Agatha to marry me today.”

  Her eyes widen. “You’re going to propose?”

  Having somebody else say it out loud makes it all the more real to me and I can’t contain my grin. “Yeah.”

  “Can I see the ring?” She looks stunned.

  “Sure. Go ahead.” I open the box, and she stares at the gleaming piece of jewelry that will tie Agatha and me together.

  “It’s gorgeous,” she breathes. Then, she looks at me. “Agatha is a lucky woman.” She closes the box and hands it back to me. “I hope she says yes.”

  “Ah, thanks.” I blink at the statement and feel a little uncertain. “What about you and Nick? You don’t look so good.”

  She rolls her shoulders, and I see the taut look in her eyes. “We broke up.”

  “Did he… are those bruises on your face because of him?” I feel my anger stirring.

  She bites her lower lip, giving me a pleading look. “I don’t want to talk about it. We broke up last week. I found out that the only reason he went out with me is because he had a thing for Agatha.” She shudders. “He’s been so angry since you two started dating.”

  Her words bring back the memory of seeing Nick watching me from across the road the day Agatha and I had finally resolved things. I recall that he hadn’t acknowledged me even though he had seen me.

  Nick?

  If what Jenna is saying is true, then that means he must be the stalker.

  It makes sense. He had access to her schedule, and he knew where she lives, and since he worked in such close tandem with Jenna, he must have found about her habits.

  “Where is he now?” I ask, urgently.

  Jenna shakes her head. “He’s on his way to the office. He has a call with one of the clients in an hour.”

  “You should have something, Jenna,” I say in a frustrated tone. When her eyes brim with tears, I feel like an asshole. “I’m sorry. No. You’ve been going through such a shitty time. Look, when he comes, just stay out of sight, okay? I’ll deal with him.”

  She rubs her eyes and sniffles. “Yeah, okay. How’s Agatha doing?”

  I give her a wan smile. “She’s fine. Agatha’s a strong person.” I glance towards her empty office. “Look, I need to make a phone call. I’m going to go set up in Agatha’s office.” She nods, and I move towards the empty room.

  Her charger is still plugged into the wall socket, and I put my phone on it. Using her office line, I try calling Henry, but the phone is dead.

  Opening the door, I ask the person closest to me, “Is there a working phone in here?”

  The man blinks. “Yeah, man. All of them.”

  “Well, the one in this office isn’t working.”

  The guy’s hair is slicked back with what I could only hope is copious amounts of hair gel and he reaches to tug at the bright red bowtie at his neck. “You can try this one.”

  Just as he says that, he picks up the receiver and puts it against his ear. A second later, he frowns and puts down the receiver. “Odd. This is also dead.” He doesn’t wait for a response, just asks, loudly, “Is somebody’s desk phone working?”

  The sound of receivers being slammed back in their holders and loud echoes of “no” and curses make me feel uneasy.

  The guy stares at the phone. “I was just on a call a minute ago.”

  The ringing of my phone from the office has me striding inside.

  It’s Henry.

  He doesn’t give me an opportunity to say anything. “Where are you?”

  “At Agatha’s office.”

  His voice is strained. “Is she with you?”

  “No. What’s going on?” I don’t like his tone.

  “We have a problem. I’m in the building. I’ll be with you in two minutes.”

  The call is cut, and I see Agatha’s message. My eyes narrow at what she wrote and I try calling her. However, she keeps cutting the call. I glance at the wall clock and see the time. It’s three in the afternoon.

  She must be in her meetings.

  Opening my laptop, I start running the number.

  One of my old classmates wo
rks in the military, and he often let me use his software programs for beta testing, and I decide to try running the number on that. It’s still running when I hear the door opens and Henry walks in.

  “Did you get Agatha’s message?” he demands.

  “Yeah,” I sit up. “I’m running the number now.”

  “Don’t bother,” Henry says, shrugging off his coat. “My people ran the number. The phone belongs to Nick Miller, one of the employees who works here. It’s an additional sim taken out in his name.”

  I purse my lips. “So, it is Nick.”

  Henry looks surprised. “You suspected him?”

  I tell him of my short conversation with Jenna and seeing him a few weeks back.

  Henry’s expression didn’t change. “I’ve met the fellow. He seemed more devoted to the assistant than Agatha.”

  “Well, people are odd. Maybe he hid it very well.”

  Henry shakes his head. “I don’t know. I know the look of a man in love.”

  “What about what he did to Jenna?” I scowl.

  Henry hesitates. “About that: did you know that her grandmother lives in Agatha’s building?”

  I still. “Jenna’s grandmother passed away last year. Agatha went to the funeral. I remember because Jenna was pretty devastated.”

  Henry doesn’t look very happy. “Well, somebody’s living there. The rent is being paid.”

  “Are you seriously suspecting Jenna?” I find myself scoffing at the very idea. “That woman has been with Agatha since college. Why would she even do something like this?”

  “I’m not saying she is,” Henry glances outside at the people working. “I’m just saying there are a few things about her that aren’t adding up.”

  I wait for him to continue.

  He paces the floor. “This apartment thing is raising red flags. Plus, when I tried to meet up with her, I couldn’t get a hold of her for quite a few days. And when I did, she was covering up all these bruises with a lot of makeup.”

  I cut him off. “I was under the impression Nick was responsible for them.”

  He gives me a sharp look, “I know what abuse victims look like. It looks more like she had been in a bad car accident.” He pauses, “I had a few suspicions, so I had my people check for her car registration. She owns a blue sedan. There is no hair nor hide of that car anywhere.”

  I am starting to get a nasty feeling. “Maybe it’s at the shop.”

  Henry gives me a grim look. “We fished it out of the lake at the edge of the city. There are bad dents in it, but it was in a bad accident before somebody drove it into a lake. Also, like I said, the kind of bruises Jenna has are similar to those of somebody who was in a very bad accident. It could also explain why there haven’t been any other gifts as such.”

  “But her reasoning? Why would she want to do something—”

  Just then, my laptop pings, and I look at the screen, and my heart freezes. “The phone call originated from inside Agatha’s building, the one she got this morning.”

  Henry walks around the table, “How could you possibly know that? What is this software?”

  “Military grade,” I tell him. “I’m testing it out for a friend.”

  “Can you pinpoint the exact location?”

  I shake my head. “The algorithm is still in the works. I just know the building area but not room or floor, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Henry stares at the screen. “If she’s living in that apartment, it would explain why the security cameras in the lobby haven’t captured anyone strange. She’s coming and going every day, probably in the same disguise, so the person who checked the videos assumed she was a tenant.”

  “And nobody checked the video feed of the parking garage of Agatha’s building,” I say, slowly. “But it doesn’t make sense why Agatha managed to stop her in time when she went after me with her car. She had a head start.”

  Henry glances at me. “Did you change your route that day?”

  I think back. “Yeah. I went around, not through like I usually do.”

  “She probably tried to track you down and got lost.”

  I stand up and rub my jaw, trying to make sense of this. “Why, though? Why would she do all of this?”

  The door opens, making us look up.

  Fergus is standing in the doorway holding a container.

  He blinks at us. “I thought Agatha would be here.”

  “She has meetings today,” I tell him. “Jacob’s with her, and there’s a team following her around. She’s completely safe. Don’t tell her about the security team though.”

  “Oh.” Fergus lowers the container onto the table. “I brought her some soup. I thought it would be easier on her stomach.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, puzzled. “She seemed fine this morning.”

  Fergus shuts the door of the office. “She told me she’s been throwing up a lot. Can’t seem to keep anything down. I thought you knew.”

  I give him a hard look. “I’m telling you, she’s fine. I haven’t seen her throw anything up. I would know. She tries her best to gross me out if she can.”

  Fergus winces. “You two have a weird relationship.”

  Henry looks between the two of us. “Sounds like Maddie when she was expecting the twins. She had a lot of morning sickness.”

  I scoff. “Agatha’s not pregnant.” When I am met with silence, my smirk fades, and my words are a bit uncertain. “She’s not. She can’t be.”

  My childhood friend glares at me. “Do you know what protection is?”

  “She’s on the pill,” I growl.

  “They don’t always work,” Henry interjects.

  “My Agatha is not pregnant. She would know.” I feel a hint of panic thread into my voice.

  “Not necessarily,” Fergus gives me a serious look. “She’s been under so much stress lately. She might just have thought it was a stomach bug.”

  “It might be a stomach bug,” I insist.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Fergus scowls. “You seem very set against the idea of Agatha being pregnant. I get you two just started this relationship, but you’re being a little—”

  “Somebody is targeting her. I’m already terrified out of my mind because the woman I love refuses to keep herself safe. Now, you’re telling me that she might be carrying my child while she’s out there alone! How can I possibly be thrilled right now!”

  Fergus shuts up. “Sorry. Sorry. You’re right.”

  I bury my hands in my hair. “I tried calling her, but she’s not picking up. She has a meeting right now.”

  I feel Fergus’s hand on my shoulder. “She’ll be fine. Philip was with me. He just checked in with Jacob. She’s fine. What is all this?”

  “Henry thinks that Jenna might be the stalker,” I say, my voice tense.

  My brain is in overdrive. Nothing is making sense.

  I can’t think about Agatha out there with some crazy psychopath following her around while she is pregnant, assuming she is.

  “She’s still in the building,” I mutter. When Henry and Fergus look at me, I gesture towards the door. “Jenna. I saw her when I was coming in here. She told me about Nick and she saw the ring that—”

  “What ring?” Fergus asks.

  “I was going to ask Agatha to marry me.” My tone is flat, my body cold with creeping terror.

  “Ian.” Fergus’s voice holds a trace a of happiness and quite a lot of sympathy over my plight. “She’s going to be fine.”

  “I don’t see her outside,” Henry says, abruptly.

  I stand up and walk to the door. Opening it, I see the same guy standing nearby. “Hey, have you seen Jenna?”

  He shakes his head. “No, man. She left immediately after you got here. Seemed to be in a hurry.”

  My blood chills and I turn to look at my companions. “She’s gone.”

  12

  Agatha

  George suing a woman over a small accident? The man is petty to a fault.

>   I roll my eyes as I walk into my apartment building.

  For a few minutes this morning, when I ran into him, I thought he was behind everything. But then he went into explicit detail about what happened, and I have to say, it seemed like he was at fault more than the woman.

  But I am pretty sure the judge will see it my way as well.

  I sent Jacob to pick up the food for the dinner today.

  I walk into the elevator and frown down at my phone. The stupid thing isn’t working after this morning. I saw Ian tried to call me, but it was as if I couldn’t press anything on the screen. The calls just kept getting cut.

  I told Philip to let Ian know that I was fine when he called Jacob up this afternoon.

  My stomach feels a bit queasy, and I scowl.

  Not again.

  I have been feeling a little sick since last week. Maybe I should just go and visit the doctor and see what is going on. I have a feeling that all this stress is responsible.

  Getting off at my floor, I walk over to my apartment, and I see a baby sock lying outside the door.

  I grin, realizing that Charlotte and Sarah must have arrived early. I know they had gone to do some baby shopping this morning. I am about to turn the doorknob when I hear a familiar voice from behind me.

  “Agatha.”

  I turn around and blink. “Jenna? Where did you come from?”

  It’s a single hall. And I didn’t seen her in the elevator. What is going on?

  She smiles at me, and it immediately makes the hair on the back of my neck rise.

  Her smile is wrong.

  “I was waiting for you,” she says, not moving.

  “Okay, but where?” I ask, my toes curling in my shoes.

  “Oh, didn’t I tell you? I got the apartment next to yours.”

  I let out a controlled breath and move my foot to cover the sock in the hallway. “When was that? You never said a word.”

  “When my grandmother died.”

  My hand turns the doorknob behind me and my smile freezes on my lips. “That was a year ago.”

  She shrugs.

  “You’ve been my neighbor for a year, and you never said anything?” I am piecing together incidents, and I don’t like what I am seeing.