Plain and the Billionaire's Seduction (Plain Jane Series Book 3)

by Tmonique Stephens

  “Home. I sent her there hours ago,” he said, voice raspy, and ended on a hacking cough.

  Thank God for small favors. Julius sighed in relief. His phone rang. It was the hospital. He didn’t have time for them. “What the fuck happened?”

  Harden’s head jerked up and he glared holy hell at Julius. “The furnace exploded. Brand. New. Furnace. Blew up.”

  There was a ton of unspoken shit between each word. Shit they couldn’t verbalize in public with the cops milling about, even if those cops were deep in Harden’s pocket. “Strange, don’t you think?” Julius posed the question, hoping to glean more information.

  “I don’t know.” Sarcasm dripped from each word as rage bleed from his gaze. “One minute I was in my office working on the books.” He paused. Brows low over pitted eyes, mouth pressed into an angry slash as if holding back a litany he wanted to spew. There was more he wanted to say, desperately, yet couldn’t. Not here. Not now. “The next, I was flat on my back, climbing out of the debris.”

  He was lucky to be alive. They both knew it. “Was this an accident…or something else?” Julius whispered. He needed to know as his phone rang again.

  Harden shook his head once, no uncertainty in his eyes. Something else, then.

  Which meant Karpovilov. Harden inhaled a rough breath and wheezed it out slowly. “Man, all I know is I’m glad it blew up now, during prep, and not when the place was full.”

  That didn’t mean some people weren’t dead. “How many people did you lose?”

  The paramedic returned, only for Harden to shove him away again. “At least two.” He paused to hack up a lung. “Maybe more. Won’t know ’til the fire is out, and the firemen get inside.” A trail of blood seeped from the bandage on his scalp. “How did you know to come here?”

  Julius’ head cocked to the side. Maybe Harden had a concussion and had forgotten. “You sent me a text. Told me what happened and said you needed me.”

  Harden threw his hands up and wiped the blood off his face. “Do I look like I have a phone?”

  Julius pulled out his phone and showed Harden the text. “You didn’t text me from a burner phone?”

  Light dawned in Harden’s eyes even as his face went blank. “I didn’t text you. But someone did, and for what reason?”

  Julius’ blood ran cold. “To get me away.” From home. From Calista!

  “Damn it!” Sunny shouted as Edwards pulled out his phone.

  Without a word, Julius spun and ran back. He didn’t have far to go when Scotts rolled up, honking the horn. The three of them hopped inside. Voice grave, Edwards said, “No one is answering.”

  “Call the police.” Julius ordered as he dialed Calista and got no answer. They were set up. He pulled up the GPS on her phone. She was still at the penthouse, which meant nothing, but it was all he had to hold on to. She was home, surrounded by guards. For the moment, it had to be enough. He tried Joshua.

  No answer.

  His phone rang and he swiped his thumb across the screen without looking. “Calista!”

  “Mr. Morgan. It’s Dr. Ames, Mrs. Connell’s neurologist.”

  “I don’t have time for this!”

  “Wait!” Dr. Ames shouted as Julius’ finger hovered over the end button. “Billie Connell is not the person she claims to be.”

  Everything inside him slowed to a crawl. Heart. Lungs. Brain. “What?”

  “She’s a fraud. She’s conning you.”

  In the background a code blue screamed from the PA system. The world continued while Julius’ world ground to a brutal halt. Rage flooded Julius’ chilled blood, all-consuming to the point fury ate his soul. He pressed the speaker button and forced himself not to crush the phone in his hand. “Say that again.”

  Dr. Ames sighed, clearly annoyed at repeating himself. “The Billie Connell you have as a guest is not the real Billie Connell. I know because the real Billie is standing in front of me with her driver’s license and student ID from her school in Florida, and she’s the spitting image of her grandmother. Same red hair, same freckles. We’re waiting on the police to file a report. I don’t know if the woman you took in is dangerous, but I felt it prudent to warn you.”

  Julius didn’t need to hear anything else. He ended the call and ordered Scotts to drive, praying with all he had that he wasn’t too late to save his woman and child.

  The phone rang again, and Calista’s name appeared on the screen. Relief doused his mounting fury as he answered the call and said her name with all the hope and fear in his heart.

  He heard a toilet flushing, then a door opening. Calista asking a question, and Virgil admitting to his betrayal for money. For money. Three million fucking dollars. That was the worth of his family’s life. Less than .2% of his wealth.

  Trapped in a car, barreling through the snowy streets of New York toward salvation or destruction, he was helpless. All he could do was listen to Calista’s, Virgil’s, and Billie’s muffled voices. She risked her life to pass along scraps of information. It had to be worth it.

  “They’re going to the roof,” Edwards said.

  At some point Julius had pressed the speaker button, but couldn’t remember when.

  “Helicopter,” Sunny replied. “But where do they go after that? Airport? Has to be, but which one? And it doesn’t have to be a jet. It could be a prop plane to Connecticut, then take a jet out of the country,” he growled.

  “She has her phone. We can find her.” Somehow, someway, she’d enabled them to know what was going on. At great risk.

  “She’s gonna get herself killed,” Sunny growled, but failed to hide the fear in his voice.

  He looked at Sunny, then Edwards and Scotts in the rearview mirror. He met their eyes, witnessed their fear. “No. She’s not. Alezandar will want her alive. As Lynda wants Joshua alive. To control. To use against me. Because what wouldn’t I do to protect the woman I love and our child.” Nothing. At. All.

  Tires squealed and the car rocked as it took a corner. “We’re a block away,” Scotts shouted.

  “We need a plan.” Edwards checked his weapon.

  “We have a plan.” Julius pulled his gun out of the shoulder holster. Full magazine. He had everyone’s attention. Three pairs of eyes on him. “Kill Virgil. Kill Billie. Get Joshua and Calista back. Whatever it takes.”

  Edwards handed Julius a spare, a Ruger that fit nicely in the small of his back. The car skidded on the unplowed streets to halt in front of the building. The four of them rushed out of the car. Overhead, the sound of a helicopter halted him, along with the sound of Calista’s voice. “I love you, Julius.” Billie said something but Calista’s last words lodged in his heart and rang in his ears until his entire world exploded and rained fire down on him.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  I n a bright fireball, the helicopter went up in flames. Along with all his dreams of watching his daughter being born and bringing her home. Her first steps. Her first words. Her first everything. His dreams of making Calista his wife. Growing old with her. Giving Jewel a sibling. All of it, gone.

  Julius flinched as pieces rained down, plummeting to the ground before his eyes. The carcass crashed yards away, the heat of the flames licking the metal baked his flesh, even in the sub-freezing weather.

  Her name rang in his mind, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud as he stumbled forward to the burning wreckage. Maybe, just maybe she was in there alive, waiting for him to save her.

  Or join her in death.

  Hands grabbed him, holding him back. Suddenly weak, he didn’t have the strength to shake them off. He didn’t have the strength to do anything except drop to his knees in the middle of a blizzard while the helicopter burned in front of him.

  His phone rang. He hadn’t even realized it was still in his hand. Someone pressed his thumb to the sensor and said, “Who the fuck is this?… What!”

  A hand landed on his shoulder and squeezed hard. He looked up and met Edwards’ eyes.

  “She wasn’
t in the copter?”

  Julius leapt to his feet.

  “Whiskey.” Edwards mouthed. “You sure? Where is she then?” A pause, then Edwards shoved the phone into Julius’ pocket. “The building has five exits. Two in the garage. Two on the first floor—one on the main avenue, the other on the street—they have to be coming out of one of them.”

  “We each take one!” Julius headed for the garage, certain they would be heading there. If the helicopter was a decoy, they needed a car. He ran down the ramp toward the secure penthouse elevator.

  Then he drew back to keep the regular elevators in sight, along with the staircase. Hidden behind a pillar, he waited. Each second an eternity. Was she alive? Had Whiskey spoken the truth? And how did he know? Where was he to see the helicopter explode and know she wasn’t on it?

  There was a way to answer one of his questions. Quickly, he opened his phone again and pulled up the tracker placed in her engagement ring. It took forever but finally, a blip appeared in the very spot he stood. Meaning she, or rather the ring, was in the building.

  He narrowed the search, zooming in until each level of the building came into sharp relief. The ring was on the move. They were on an elevator, but one he’d never used. The service elevator, which made sense. What better way to avoid residents interfering with their getaway. He kept watch. Expecting the elevator to stop and Calista and the ring to exit on the ground floor and into the path of one of the men, Julius edged up the ramp. He didn’t want to leave in case the blip changed directions.

  He was right. His hesitation paid off. The ring didn’t exit on the street level. It continued descending to the garage level. Julius rushed back to the pillar, prepared to surprise Virgil and Billie. Prepared to do whatever it took to get his family back.

  He skidded to a halt, his gaze shifting between the elevator and phone, until he shoved his phone in his pocket and trained his gun on the metal doors. Any second they would open and the rest was out of his hands. Either he would walk away with his woman, his child, and brother, or he would die trying.

  The elevator doors didn’t open. The ring continued moving, down, down, down.

  What the—Sub-basement! Delivery entrance! It had a separate garage for trucks. Perfect for a getaway.

  How the fuck had he forgotten? No time to call anyone, Julius ran.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  S tunned, Calista watched the helicopter crash onto the helipad. The entire platform rocked. She grabbed onto the rail yet slipped on the slick metal stairs. Her ankle twisted and she pitched forward. At the last second, she shifted and landed on her side instead of her bump. Pain raced up her flank and her belly contracted painfully.

  Billie hauled her to her feet. “We have to move!”

  The grind of metal screeching against metal replaced the sounds of flames. Calista glimpsed the helicopter tilting to the right and then vanishing over the side of the building. “The helicopter was a diversion,” she said to Billie in growing horror.

  Julius thinks I’m inside that burning hunk of metal. He thinks I’m dead. We’re all dead. Hours would pass before he realized they weren’t, and by that time, she and Joshua would be out of the country. God knows where. A sob tore from her throat only to get lost in the loud crash of the helicopter meeting the pavement.

  “Move it!” Billie shoved Calista, not caring if she fell again. They raced back to the penthouse, through the apartment to the elevators. Instead of pressing the button for the ground floor or garage, Billie pressed the button for the twentieth floor. Kind of random, Calista thought as another stab of pain spread from her flank to her bellybutton.

  They exited the elevator and headed to the street side of the building. No one was out and about. On a cold wintry night, people were home, huddled together sharing body heat and hot chocolate or something stronger. How she wished that were her sitting on the sofa in front of the fireplace, nursing a huge mug of cocoa with marshmallows floating on top. Julius would be there, his warm, solid frame sheltering her from the world. How she wished she were anywhere but here being kidnapped at gunpoint.

  Shouldn’t wish to run into anyone. They’d only be hurt. Calista had no idea where they were going until Billie hauled their group in front of the forgotten service elevator, stashed in a back corridor, sight unseen unless purposefully searching for it. Only in use when moving into or out of the building, along with delivery of large items. Resigned, she entered the large service elevator. There were seventy floors in the building. They had a bit of a ride to the sub-basement. Where was Julius? He had to be on the way or already here. He had to think she was dead. Burned to death in the crash. Jesus. Not gonna cry. Not now.

  Joshua groaned. Calista reached out and ran her hand through his tousled hair. Balanced on Virgil’s shoulder, his skin was cool and dry, and he was still out. Good. He was lucky to sleep through this horror. She prayed his luck would hold until they reached their destination. She guessed it wouldn’t be anywhere in America. They had a long flight ahead of them. “He’d better be alright,” she said to Billie.

  “Or what? What do you think you’re going to do, Mrs. Six Months Pregnant?” Billie snorted, so fucking confident.

  One slip and a bullet would be between her eyes. Then she’d still have to deal with Virgil. One thing at a time. Jewel chose that moment to kick, hard. Calista winced, surprised at the strength. Her hands automatically soothed the area.

  “Don’t try that bullshit. You’re not going into labor.” Billie rolled her eyes and pressed the gun to Calista’ side. The elevator slowed and stopped with a light jerk. The doors opened to a platform and a surprisingly large loading dock. Unfortunately, it was empty of people, trucks, and even a car. How were they getting out of here?

  “Let’s go.” Billie nudged her to the stairs on the left. Then they marched up a ramp to the basement level. The quiet chilled her more than the cold seeping through her coat, sinking into her bones. The only sound was three pairs of feet clip-clopping on the cement. The ramp opened to the middle of the basement level where all the tenants parked their luxury cars. Around the corner was the private elevator to the penthouse level. She caught the acrid scent of smoke and burning fuel and the sound of sirens approaching quickly. Ambulance and police. The area would be swarming with them. Maybe that would be her chance to escape or signal someone to help. Without a gun, it was all she could do.

  “Hurry.” Virgil took the lead. He took a sharp right, away from the ramp. They followed. “It’s the blue Volvo.” He took off at a jog, Joshua groaned as his limp body flopped on Virgil’s shoulder.

  Julius rounded a yellow pillar. Calista blinked, just to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. The relief was sweet upon realizing she hadn’t imagined him. He was real. Virgil and Billie halted. Calista kept walking, drawn to him like a moth to a flame, until reality came crashing down.

  Billie jammed the gun to Calista’s bump. From somewhere she pulled a knife and pressed the cold blade to Calista’s throat. Next to them, Virgil aimed his gun at Julius.

  Julius stepped forward, his hands raised, though his gun was in his hand, dangling from his index finger.

  In her entire life, she’d never been a coward, faced any and everything life threw at her. This—Julius killed in front of her—she couldn’t face. Snapping her eyes shut, she braced for the first shot.

  Then she opened them. Because she had to. Julius deserved no less than her witnessing his stupid sacrifice. If this was the end, the last thing he saw had to be her love shining in her eyes and shouted across the distance separating them.

  But this couldn’t be the end. It couldn’t. Desperate, she searched for a way out, a way to save all of them, and came up with nothing. Tears poured from her eyes at the hopelessness of it all.

  “You’re early. Weren’t supposed to figure shit out until we were gone,” Billie said. “Drop the gun.”

  The weapon clattered to the ground and Julius took another step forward, his hands still raised high over his head.
“Take me. Take me and let her go.”

  “Can’t do that, boss.” Virgil chimed in.

  Julius’ gaze shifted to the traitor and that’s all he did. Not a single word left his mouth. It wasn’t needed when the promise of revenge blazed from his eyes.

  “Take me.” He reiterated. “And I’ll sign over the entire company to Karpovilov. Get him on the phone and tell him.”

  Billie nudged Calista forward. “He doesn’t want you in Russia. He wants you here, under his thumb, doing exactly what he tells you to do.” In Calista’s ear she whispered, “Reach into my pocket for the car keys to the blue Volvo.”

  Calista did as she was told. She reached behind her and snaked her hand into Billie’s coat pocket. She touched the fob and the cold metal of the single key. Fishing it out, she fisted it in her hand and flung it at Julius.

  Billie screamed in her ear and Virgil let loose with a string of curses as Julius caught them. The gun pressed hard into her bump. Calista braced for pain and prayed it wasn’t the straw that broke the camel’s back. Ten seconds later, she was still standing and not bleeding. Apparently, for the moment, her gamble paid off. Where were Sunny, Edwards, and Scotts? They had to be close. At the other exits was the likely answer. How long would they guard those exits until they remembered the loading dock?

  It wouldn’t matter. Calista was the perfect shield. Taller and wider, Billie had no problem hiding in her shadow while keeping her trapped. Knife digging into her throat, she tilted her head just for a fraction of space. The warm trickle of blood rolling down her neck registered before the stinging pain.

  The sound of running feet gave her the answer. The cavalry was here. Shots rang out. Calista screamed but she dare not move with the gun pressed to her bump and the knife across her throat. Virgil, the idiot asshole, started firing. No one returned fire as both Julius and Billie ordered Virgil to cease.

  “Stop firing, goddamnit!” Julius shouted over his shoulder. The gunfire ceased, replaced by Virgil’s scream. He tossed Joshua off his shoulder and dropped to his knees, his hands reaching behind to his lower back and coming away coated in red.