The Lost Tycoon

The Lost Tycoon

Book
Five in the Baby for the Billionaire Series

b
y Melody Anne

Copyright © 2014 Melody Anne

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

This is a work of romantic fiction, and for dramatic purposes, some liberties have been taken with procedures of the FBI, federal prosecution, and the United States Federal Witness Protection Program.

Printed and published in the United States of America.

Published by Gossamer Publishing Company

Editing by Nicole and Alison

Table of Contents

This is dedicated to
a new and dear friend, Kathiey. I could sit and talk to her until all hours of the night. Wait! We do that already! I am so glad to know you, Kathiey, and I can’t wait for the fun adventures ahead.

I can’t believe it is time for another book to come out! When you have a job that you love so much, it’s never work — it’s pure joy. This story begins so much differently than my other books do, and then it takes a few twists and turns that I wasn’t expecting. That’s what I love about writing. Nothing is set in stone. I can go where the story leads me, and I often do!

I am so excited about the
new year. It promises many new adventures, and many new surprises for all of you. Thank you, as always, for the wonderful support you give me. I hope you enjoy my book about Bryson and Misty. I don’t normally have favorite characters, but I have to say that I wept a few times with Misty. When I’m writing a story, I always talk to people I know about it; I listen to their opinions and accounts of relevant incidents in their lives. I’m deeply saddened to know that there are people out there like Misty; even worse, most of them don’t get to experience a happy ending.

Thank you again for sticking with me. To win prizes each month, make sure you join me on Facebook, Twitter and my website. It’s one of our ways of showing appreciation to all that you do for me.

A lot of love goes to my family and friends. I can’t do any of this without you! I love you all! Now that the book is done, I’ll come out of my cave and we’ll have a pizza party!!

Melody Anne

A Note to the Reader

If you’ve read the standard disclaimer, you’ll know that this is a work of fiction. In fact, it’s a work of romantic fiction, and as such it has just a bit of fantasy in it. We all want our drama and our happy endings, and to achieve that, I’ve taken liberties with certain procedures of the FBI, federal prosecution, and the United States Federal Witness Protection Program. It seemed only right.

BILLIONAIRE BACHELORS

*The Billionaire Wins the Game

*The Billionaire’s Dance

*The Billionaire Falls

*The Billionaire’s Marriage Proposal

*Blackmailing the Billionaire

*Runaway Heiress

*The Billionaire’s Final Stand

*Unexpected Treasure

*Hidden Treasure –
Coming Soon

BABY FOR THE BILLIONAIRE

+The Tycoon’s Revenge

+The Tycoon’s Vacation

+The Tycoon’s Proposal

+The Tycoon’s Secret

+The Lost T
ycoon

+The Tycoon Doctor –
Coming Soon

RISE OF THE DARK ANGEL

-Midnight Fire – Rise of the Dark Angel – Book One

-Midnight Moon – Rise of the Dark Angel – Book Two

-Midnight Storm – Rise of the Dark Angel – Book Three

-Midnight Eclipse – Rise of the Dark Angel – Book Four –
Coming Soon

Surrender

=Surrender – Book One

=Submit – Book Two

=Seduced – Book Three

=Scorched – Book Four

“I swear I didn’t see anything.”

Her heartbeat thrashed in her ears as Misty Elton backed away.

“What in the hell were you snooping around for?” His eyes bulged and his fists balled tightly together.

“I was just looking for a sweatshirt because the apartment was cold. I swear. I didn’t see anything.” Misty was almost sobbing. Her eyes darted toward the door, and she inched toward it, away from his deadly fists, trying to lock her shaking knees together in her flight-or-fight response to what she saw in his face.

Hatred. Loathing. The very devil resided inside him — she was sure of it.

She had no doubt about the way this was going to end. When his voice rose like that, to an almost squealing pitch, when the corners of his mouth tightened and when his fingers firmed, turning his hands into brutal, merciless weapons, it meant she was going to get hurt.

The evidence stood out, practically glowing like a neon light. She’d never before had such a great wish to turn back the clock, to undo one mistake. She’d only been searching for a sweatshirt in the trunk in the room — that was all — and instead she’d found his stash. And that was the moment he’d found her. If he’d come in only a minute later, she’d have closed the lid and rushed from the room, and he never would have known.

As he took a step closer, her stomach turned over. This was worse than usual — this wouldn’t be a typical punishment. She knew his intentions from the cold fury of his gaze.

“I promise I won’t slip up, won’t tell another soul what I saw,” she pleaded. “I swear. It was only a sweatshirt I was looking for!”

“Come here, Misty!” he growled, ignoring her plea as she took another step back. “Now!”

In the past, such words from him stopped any trace of resistance. She knew that if she ran, it could only end one way: he’d pursue her and give her at least one broken bone. If she screamed or cowered, she’d see his eyes light with pleasure as he continued to pummel her.

She’d been with this man for a whole year. In the beginning, she’d thought he was so impressive, a good-looking cop who wanted her.
He’d actually wanted her!
It hadn’t taken long for her to see his true colors, but from the moment he’d set his sights on her, it was too late.

Once Jesse wanted something, he either got it or that something disappeared forever. She’d discovered that the hard way — the painful way. She was trapped. No one and nowhere to turn to. Her only escape from him ever was when she worked part time at a local diner, and even then, he would show up at random intervals to check in on her. If he saw the smallest indication of flirting — and just talking to another man usually counted as flirting to him — Misty would feel Jesse’s fists when she got home.

The one time she’d tried to leave him… A shudder passed through her. She didn’t have time to think about that — she needed to stay focused on this moment, on this situation. If she lost concentration for even a second, he would pounce, and she knew that this time she wouldn’t see daylight ever again.

He kept his eye on her as he sat on the edge of the bed and untied his work boots, looking as if he had all the time in the world. In his mind he did. Still, the faster he got out of his clothes, the more ready he would be to torture her in the most sadistic ways possible.

She thought about running while he was tugging first one boot off and then the other, but it wouldn’t give her enough of a head start. No. She had to plan this just right.

Lately the beatings had been worse than ever before — bad enough, in fact, that she couldn’t take it anymore, even if she died trying to escape. And she might. She’d saved some money — money he’d be furious about if he knew what she was doing — and she’d been planning on leaving in two days. That was when he had the long shift. She’d be several hundred miles away before he ever knew.

Even with his resources, he wouldn’t find her — not this time. She shuddered when she thought back to the last time she’d tried to leave. She was trying to concentrate on the here and now, but her mind had other ideas. That attempted escape had landed her in the hospital for two weeks in intensive care. She’d even tried pressing charges, but somehow the paperwork had been buried. He’d warned her that if she tried that again, she wouldn’t wake up.

She believed him.

So now they were in a face-off. She was so close to freedom, so close…

“Are you listening to me, bitch?”

Misty froze. He’d stood back up and drawn a couple of steps closer to her.

“I swear, Jesse, I didn’t see anything. I won’t tell a soul. I was just looking for a sweatshirt.”

“Yeah. That’s what my last ex said, too. Then the whore ran to the cops — my buddies. They were good enough to tell me about the lying little tramp. Do you see her around, Misty?”

“No,” she practically sobbed.

“Yeah, no one will see her around again,” he said, with a glint in his eyes that increased her terror. “And no one will ever run to my buddies spilling lies about me again, either.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” she said. What was the fastest escape? If she could get away, she’d be fine. But she couldn’t let her eyes dart around, or he’d see it. And he was still in his police uniform, and she was very aware of the gun on his hip. What would he tell the cops, the brotherhood who would vouch for him?

Probably that she’d brought in the drugs, he’d seen them and confronted her, and then she went crazy. She was sure he’d plant a gun on her, make it look convincing. They’d pat him on the back, tell him he was one lucky bastard to have gotten out alive.

She’d become nothing but some paperwork, her body cremated because there was no one to pay for a casket and bury her, and because he wouldn’t want even her body to remain on this earth. She’d go up in smoke and never be thought of again.

Maybe that was for the best. Her life was one long nightmare. Wait! She was thinking of giving up? The hell she would. Everyone deserved a chance to survive — to really live. She was no different.

Her spine stiffened. There was no way she’d just roll over. This man might very well get away with killing her, and he might do it all too easily — it might be a short-lived battle — but at least she’d go down fighting.

“Stay here!” And Jesse had no doubt she’d do exactly that. Why would she try to escape? She’d tried that once and it had only made her punishment worse.

He moved toward his private room across the short hallway, and she heard
the
drawer open. Oh, shit! He was planning to handcuff her to the bar he had attached to the solid kitchen table he’d had specially reinforced for one purpose: to inflict unimaginable pain. He’d done this before. He’d ripped off her shirt and beat her — immobilized, with her arms and legs in shackles — until she was unconscious and bloody.

To this day, she couldn’t look at her back in the mirror; she was too afraid to see the tangle of scars there. With her eyes filled with tears, she made a silent dash to the living room, grabbed her purse off the small table, and swung open the front door.

She ran down the hallway, fleeing toward the stairs of their apartment building as soundlessly as a fawn bouncing through a meadow. Her feet moved full speed ahead as if the hounds of hell were after her. At least one was — that was for sure.

She slipped into the stairwell, the fire door making a loud click behind her as she barreled down, making it two levels before she heard the fire door open again.

“Get back here now!”

She didn’t take the time to lean over the railing and look up the winding staircase. She was still two flights ahead of him, but with three to go. The elevator was slow. If he turned back and took that, she’d make it out way ahead of him. But no such luck. She heard the door shut and she knew he was coming after her. At least he was barefoot. That would slow him down.

Almost flying, one hand barely on the banister to keep her from taking a headlong plunge, she made it to the bottom floor, pushed through the door, and then ran down the last hall to the wide front doors of the building. She thrust down the bar, yanked open the door, and rushed into the parking area. It was early morning, the light just beginning to displace the shadows of night, and there
would
be witnesses. He wouldn’t care, though. Nothing would stop him if he got his hands on her.

Once she was scrambling through the huge parking lot, she didn’t slow down as she pulled her car keys from her purse and looked up to see her car, a car he didn’t know about. It seemed miles away. So far! Too far!

Time stood still and her lungs burned as she attempted her frantic escape.

“The longer you drag this out, Misty, the worse it’s going to be for you.”

Damn! He’d made it through the doors. How far ahead was she?

She knew she shouldn’t, but she looked back. He was walking, thinking he had plenty of time, but he was too close still for her comfort. Thank goodness for the extra weight he’d put on, making it more difficult for him to run.

Her heart thundered in her chest, and she stumbled, but she caught herself at the last second before she crashed onto the broken asphalt.

If she fell, it would all be over. He’d drag her back upstairs by her hair. The neighbors wouldn’t even bother calling the cops. They were all terrified of Jesse, and they all knew that any call would be thrown out anyway. Even if he did pound her to a pulp right there, people would turn their backs.

She’d received the pitying glances, the incredulous looks. People wondered why she stayed. She wanted to tell them it wasn’t by choice — she wanted to beg for help. But she wouldn’t involve anyone else. This was her misery and she would either be freed from this hell or she’d die trying.

Her sides had begun to ache, but the car was now close. She skidded to a stop a moment later, her key ready, her hand unbelievably steady as she pushed it into the lock on the first try. Wrenching open the door, she jumped into the driver’s seat and immediately pressed the key to the ignition — this time not so lucky. She’d missed it.

“Please,” she begged whoever might be listening, and this time when she pressed the key forward, thankfully, it slid into the ignition.

She turned the key so hard that she was afraid she’d break it, but her car started on the first try. The fates must be lining up in her favor.

“Get out of that car, Misty!”

So close.

He was so very close. She backed the car out of the parking spot and saw him only about ten yards behind her.
“Please, please, please…”
she begged as she threw the car into drive and slammed the gas pedal all the way to the floor.

As she pulled up to the exit from the lot, she glanced into the rearview mirror again, locking gazes with Jesse. A cold shiver of dread passed through her when she saw how near he was, almost to the bumper of her car. A look of murder was in his eyes, and it was clear what would happen if he got his hands on her. By the time he was done, she’d want to die.

There was no going back now. There was no need to. She had everything she needed in this little car, her escape a couple of days early, but well planned out.

Pulling onto the street, she sped away, breathing heavy as she traveled through Billings, Montana. If he called her car in… If he somehow caught up to her… If…

No. She wouldn’t think that way. She’d gotten away. She would stay away. He didn’t know which way she was going — he had no way of finding her. This was her car — it was a junker, a twenty-year-old Honda with more than two hundred thousand miles on the odometer, ripped upholstery and no working heater, but it was hers, debt free.

He couldn’t report it stolen — he couldn’t take it from her. He hadn’t even known about it until just this moment, which had given her another advantage. He’d thought he’d be able to chase her down the street, wait for her to tire out. He hadn’t been expecting her to drive off.

She just prayed it had been too dark for him to take down her license plate number. His eyes had been connected with hers in the mirror, she reminded herself. He hadn’t been looking anywhere near her license plate.

“I’m free,” she said aloud. Maybe she’d actually believe it if she repeated it enough.

When she reached the edge of town and jumped onto the freeway, she let out her first real sigh of relief. When she made it a hundred miles away, her white knuckles relaxed on the steering wheel.

Her body shaking, she didn’t stop moving until she was in Washington State, where she pulled off the I90 at a truck stop in Spokane. She got out and pumped in some gas, letting the cool wind glide across her. Her nerves were still frazzled, but she was free. For now, anyway.

Inside the store, she found a few snacks that didn’t cost too much and poured herself a large coffee to keep awake. She wasn’t far enough away. She needed to keep going.

When she stepped back outside, a police cruiser circled by, and her eyes met the officer’s. Terror seized her heart, but she knew it didn’t show in her face. She was prepared for this, and she knew that cops looked for signs of guilt.

If she didn’t give this one a reason to talk to her, he would pass on by. Walking with confidence, or what she hoped looked like confidence, she opened her car door casually and slid into the driver’s seat, taking her time situating her food and drink and buckling her seat belt.