Battle with a Billionaire: A Suspenseful Billionaire Romance (Hearts and Holdings Billionaire Romanc

Chapter 1

Grant’s lips tugged into a frown as he stared at the two sets of glaring eyes that faced him in the soft, warm lights of his private study at Harrington House. The familiarity of the room with its mahogany bookcases that caught glints of the morning sun did little to ease the growing tension in the room.

He crossed his arms, refusing to back down as he shifted his gaze from his butler, Worthington, to his daughter, Sierra.

Worthington’s disapproving look was bad enough, but Sierra’s was enough to stop a train.

“I don’t know what you two are so upset about,” he finally said. “I fixed the problem. It’s fine.”

Sierra scoffed at him. “Hardly.”

Grant’s shoulders slumped. “Julia’s here, isn’t she? She’s not leaving. She’s with us.”

“For now,” Sierra shot back.

Grant rubbed at his forehead. “For a year,” he reminded his daughter.

“Big deal, Daddy! She was with us for a year the last time and look at how that turned out! She nearly moved out because you wouldn’t do anything about it.”

As Sierra’s words echoed in the study, a twinge of uneasiness settled over him. Had he been too cautious? The weight of his own indecision pressed down on him, a silent reminder of squandered opportunities. He knew he needed to act, yet doubt lingered.

“That’s not true. I planned to do a lot of things. Then the explosion happened. And if that wasn’t bad enough, your mother showed up, just as I was about to tell Julia we wanted her to stay outside of her contract.”

Sierra frowned at him, crossing her arms as she arched an eyebrow. He knew that look of disapproval. But there wasn’t much he could do about it. He needed more time, and he had it now.

He held up a hand in his defense. “I needed more time, and now I have it.”

“Oh? More time for what?”

Worthington’s eyes darted back and forth between father and daughter as he shifted his weight, his fingers clasped tightly behind his back.

“Sierra, I couldn’t just spring it on her. After everything that happened, it would have been a disaster. I need time to make sure it doesn’t all go sideways.”

Sierra narrowed her eyes, her jaw tightening as she listened with her arms folded tightly across her chest. A silent, simmering disapproval radiated from her mere expression, more telling than her acrid words.

“Just trust me on this.”

“Like we trusted you the last time?” she burst.

Grant screwed up his face. “Why are you this angry? She’s here, isn’t she?”

Sierra heaved a sigh and shook her head. “Yes, she is here. For now. Another year like what we just went through, and she’ll be gone before this contract is up.”

“First of all, I sincerely hope we do not have another year like the last one. I’ve had about all I can take of bogus murder charges, kidnappings, surprise children, and attempts on my life.”

“Attempts on your life?” Sierra questioned. “Do you think…do you think that explosion wasn’t an accident?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t put anything past these people. They kidnapped Evie, they nearly ran Julia over, and then they kidnapped both you and Julia.” Grant’s mind drifted back to the tumultuous events of the past year–the accusations, the threats, the moments when he feared he’d lost everything.

“Thanks to Kyle,” Sierra said with a shake of her head. “And if the explosion was on purpose, what makes you think the next year is going to be any better? Are they just going to stop because they feel bad or are you going to send them a nicely worded note asking for a cease-fire while you woo your wife?”

Grant clenched his jaw as he sighed. “No. But we’re onto them now. We have more information than we did before so they may have to tread more carefully.”

“Thanks to Julia we have information,” Sierra said. “Which is another reason to say something now rather than later. Daddy, please don’t let this go until the last minute.”

“No one is letting anything go until the last minute, Sierra. But we have an entire year. I’m not going to do this until I think she’s ready.”

Sierra offered him an unimpressed stare before she flicked her gaze to Worthington. “Maybe you can talk some sense into him. I’ve got things to do.”

He noted the frustration in her voice, but also another emotion, one uncharacteristic to her: fear. She’d grown close to Julia. And her words, though sharp, carried an undercurrent of desperation. After being left by her mother at five years old, she was extremely sensitive to losing people. Julia’s departure would kill her.

She stomped her way to the door and whirled to face him before she stepped into the foyer. “Don’t screw it up, Daddy.”

As Sierra stormed out, Grant let his hand fall to the mahogany desk with another sigh, a sense of foreboding settling. The road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but at least he had a path instead of a brick wall. “Well, let’s hear your list of complaints.”

“I have no such list, sir,” Worthington said.

“Really? You’re giving me the disappointed look.”

“Naturally, we would all feel much more settled if Mrs. Harrington planned to stay forever, though if that could not be arranged, then this is the best substitute.”

“Thank you, Worthington,” Grant said with a bob of his head. “That’s exactly what I thought.”

“Although—”

“Here it comes.” Grant flung his hand in the air, awaiting the man’s analysis of the situation.

“Ms. Sierra has a point about not leaving it.”

“I’m not going to leave it,” Grant promised. “This time was far too close of a call. I just want things to settle down a little.”

“Perhaps, though, sir, settled moments are not the ripest ones for the picking.”

Grant flicked his eyes to the man. “Are you suggesting I wait until we’re mid-crisis and then lay it on her?”

“Absolutely not, sir. However, I would recommend not becoming too complacent. Things have a way of sneaking up on you when you least expect them.”

Grant couldn’t argue with that. Julia had snuck up on him when he least expected it. He just needed a little time and a little glimmer of hope from her before he broached the subject. “Yes, I know. I just need a little time. Maybe after the Senate campaign. When things aren’t quite so…topsy-turvy.”

Worthington raised his eyebrows, clasping his hands behind his back.

“Don’t give me that look, Worthington. Julia is under a tremendous amount of pressure right now, thanks to me. I don’t want to add to that strain.”

“I see. And you feel it would…change her answer in some way?”

“Yes, I do.”

“You believe the relationship is that precarious?”

Grant clicked his tongue at the question. “No…yes… I don’t know. That’s the problem, I don’t know. Julia is…different.”

“Which is the real issue with this situation.”

“Probably,” Grant admitted. They made an excellent team, however, she wasn’t like any of his past wives. Wife number three would have more than eagerly accepted his offer after one diamond tennis bracelet.

He glanced at his top drawer, recalling the moment Julia had rejected the sapphire bracelet he’d bought her after a misunderstanding. She’s adamantly expressed she didn’t need an apology gift. Although, she’d also adamantly told him she didn’t need an apology because they didn’t have a real relationship.

That still stung. And he worried the lines of the contract hadn’t blurred for her as they had for him.

“I am certain you will find the appropriate moment, sir. Just know we all hope this works out as much as you do.”

Grant offered him an appreciative smile. “Thank you, Worthington. I’m glad you agree about Julia being one-of-a-kind.”

“Most definitely,” the butler answered.

“She couldn’t be more different from Lydia.”

“Speaking of, I should prepare her martini.”

“Martini? It’s only ten after eleven in the morning.”

“Yes. Already ten minutes too late for her liking.”

Grant scrubbed his face as he pondered for the umpteenth time why he’d allowed Lydia to move back into this house. “I really need to talk to her about moving out.”

“From what I understand there are no suitable homes available at the moment.”

“I’ll bet,” Grant said with a shake of his head. “I may have to speak to her realtor myself.”

“Good luck, sir, we will all be hoping that works out as well.”

Grant chuckled at the man’s subtle insult toward his first wife.

“Is there anything else I can get you, sir?”

“No, thanks. I think I’m fine.”

“Call if you need anything,” Worthington said with a bow of his head before he strode toward the doors, stepped into the foyer, and neatly shut Grant inside.

As silence settled over him, he shifted his gaze to the wedding photo next to his monitor. The late morning sun sparkled against the silver frame as he traced the outline of Julia’s smiling face.

He yearned for a lifetime filled with such moments: warm, tender, and genuine. But deep down, he feared he might never experience them again.

A knock pulled him from his rumination. “Come in,” he called, giving the photo a last glance.

He snapped his gaze to the door, tension building between his shoulders as his son, Kyle, walked in. “Dad,” he said, his voice tinged with an iciness. “Just checking on you.”

“You don’t have to bother.”

Kyle tugged a stethoscope from around his neck. “Well, I am your doctor, so I do.”

“I can switch doctors, Kyle.”

Kyle heaved a sigh as he pressed the stethoscope against Grant’s chest. “You could do a lot of things, but somehow whatever is most convenient for you is usually what happens.”

Grant shook his head as he pressed his lips together, trying not to react to his son’s angry words.

“Nothing to say?” Kyle asked as he flung the stethoscope around his neck. “Well, maybe you can just listen. I saw your little announcement on the news. And it’s only made me more sure I’m right about you. And I’m going to prove it.”

Grant clenched his jaw at the words. He really hoped Julia’s continued presence could help him deal with his son. The man pushed every button he had. “Kyle?—”

“No, no, there’s no need to answer. It wasn’t a challenge. It was just a fact. You’re not going to keep getting away with everything you’re doing.”

Kyle’s icy grin, laced with years of unspoken grievances, sent a chill down his spine before he let himself out.

Grant slid his eyes closed at the not-so-subtle warning he’d just received from the son who only grew to hate him more and more with every move he made. No matter what he did, Kyle found a way to slant it to the negative.

The only reason they hadn’t killed each other yet was Julia, who seemed to be able to hold their hostility at bay and give them their only chance at any kind of relationship. However, that had been threatened when Kyle had learned about their marriage contract courtesy of an upset Sierra.

His epic reaction to that was a problem Grant wasn’t certain even Julia could fix.

As he pondered discussing it with her, his phone buzzed across the polished wood of his desk. He glanced at the caller: Kathryn Wentworth, his campaign manager.

He swiped to accept the call. “Kathryn, how are things looking on the campaign trail?”

“Hi, Grant,” she answered in her no-nonsense voice. “I’m confident given our last polling numbers, but there are a few things we should discuss.”

“Is there a problem?” Another problem was the last thing he needed right now.

“Not in so many words, but there are some…rumblings. I just want to be sure we’re not going to be blindsided by anything.”

“That doesn’t sound good at all.”

“Like I said, there’s nothing concrete, but I do think we need to make sure we’re prepared before something blows up in our faces. Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to use those words given your recent…experience.”

“It’s fine,” he said as his stomach clenched both over the memory of the explosion and what it had almost cost him and the worrying information from Kathryn.

“Given your history, I want to make sure we have our bases covered. When can you meet?”

“How’s tomorrow morning? Nine?”

“Perfect. See you then.”

As the call ended, Grant twisted to stare out the window. The leaves rustled in the gusty breeze. His mind, a match to the tumultuous wind, swirled from Sierra’s warning to Kyle’s cold accusation when it finally centered on his campaign. Whatever Kathryn had meant, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was on the cusp of a crisis that could unravel everything he’d worked for–both politically and personally.