Page 34 of Believing in a Billionaire (Hearts and Holdings #7)

GRANT

G rant scrubbed his face as he tried to search for other solutions to raise the capital he needed to lock down control of Harrington Global. Worry for Julia and Sierra clouded his ability to think, though.

He stared down at his phone’s dark display before he snatched it from the desk. He scrolled through his contacts and placed another call to Sierra. She didn’t answer again.

He tightened his grip on the phone before he tried Julia. His call went straight to her voicemail. Frustration ripped through him, and he fired his tumbler across the room, smashing it into the wall. It shattered into pieces as he let a growl escape him.

“I take it the banks aren’t amenable to your request,” Mike’s voice said from the doorway.

Grant flexed his jaw as he glanced up at his security head. “In a word, no. And I’ve got another issue going on at home.”

“Health problem with Mrs. Harrington?” Mike asked as he shuffled into the room.

He shook his head as his phone lit up with a text message. He grabbed it, nearly dropping it from his trembling hands as he tapped to read it. Daddy, stop calling, I’m busy.

He pounded his thumbs against the virtual keyboard as panic rose in him. Where are you? What is going on?

A bubble appeared, indicating her typing a response. We’re in some warehouse on the north side of town.

His stomach clenched. What warehouse? Sierra, call me. I want answers.

She responded quickly, sending a wave of annoyance through him. I don’t know. That Alex guy found it. We’re fine. But I gotta go. Talk later, Daddy!

A second message popped up after that one. Don’t text or call. You’re too distracting.

He huffed out a sigh as he dumped the phone on the desk and glanced at Mike. “Sorry. Sierra is…I don’t know what they’re doing, but I need to find out. Give me a second to call Max.”

Mike nodded as he eased into one of the chairs across from Grant.

“Make yourself a drink if you’d like,” Grant said as he pressed his phone to his ear.

The line trilled three times before Max answered.

“Well?” he demanded the moment the man answered.

“I’m trying, sir, but…”

“But what?” Grant barked. “You’re telling me you haven’t found them?”

“I can’t find the phones.”

“Unbelievable. Max, find them. If you don’t, you can clean out your things because you’re fired.”

“I’m doing my be–”

Grant ended the call before the man finished his sentence as frustration tensed his muscles. What was going on that Max couldn’t trace their phones? It made him nervous. Where were they? And what did Alex Stone have to do with it?

He had half a mind to call the man, but he was certain, despite coming highly recommended, his security team wouldn’t be able to find the phone number to get a hold of him.

“Anything I can help with?” Mike asked.

Grant huffed out a breath as he collapsed into his chair. “My daughter and my wife are running around in some abandoned warehouse and my head of personal security can’t find them.”

“He’s not tracking their phones?” Mike asked, his brow furrowing.

“He can’t. He says something is blocking him.”

Mike frowned at the statement. “Mind if I take a crack at it, sir?”

“Please do,” Grant said.

Mike rose from the chair, pointing at the monitor on Grant’s desk. “Do you mind?”

Grant pushed away from the desk, motioning for the man to access the terminal. He leaned forward, his fingers tapping the keys as he logged into his account. He navigated to a program on his desktop and opened it.

“Mrs. Harrington’s number?”

Grant passed it along, and Mike keyed it in before he pressed enter. A colorful circle spun around before a box popped up on the screen reading DEVICE NOT FOUND.

Mike’s forehead creased. “Your daughter’s number?”

Grant gave it to him.

Mike repeated the process with the same results. “Both devices are on and active, correct?”

“I just texted Sierra. Unless she turned her phone off right after, it should be on.”

Mike frowned at the computer screen, leaning closer and typing a few commands. He shook his head, trying another set. None of them resulted in any information on the phones.

“That’s odd,” Mike said.

“What is it?”

“It’s like their signals are being hidden. I tried to grab a last location, but it’s sending me on a wild goose chase.”

“What do you mean?” Grant asked.

“I mean it’s telling me your wife was last seen in Singapore, and your daughter in Zimbabwe.”

Grant’s eyebrows knitted as he stared at the screen. “What? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“No, it doesn’t. There’s something odd here.”

He clicked a few buttons before he minimized the window.

“What are you doing?”

“Running a diagnostic on the program. It’ll take about an hour. Maybe then we can figure out what’s happening. In the meantime, is there anything I can do about the financial situation?” Mike skirted the desk and reclaimed his chair.

“It’s not looking good. I can’t get anyone to give us the money. And even cobbling together the offers I do have, we’re not even at half.”

“I may have a few connections who have quick access to cash. I can call them, but it’s…tricky.”

“Does that translate to less-than-legal?”

Mike lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “It translates to methods you don’t need to be privy to. However, they will want some…assurances. But I’m certain you can provide them. Just say the word, and I’ll make the call.”

Grant leapt from his chair, pacing the length of his office, each step echoing his mounting desperation. Was he ready to cross this line? He flexed his jaw as he considered the risky proposition. “Let me try a few more people before I make that call.”

Mike bobbed his head. “Absolutely. I’ll keep this in my back pocket in case we need it.”

He rose from the chair, buttoning his jacket before he strode silently from the room. Grant collapsed into his chair, his brain a scramble of worry on every front.

He glanced at his monitor, staring at the minimized program Mike had used to track Julia’s and Sierra’s phones. Why had it not worked? And where were they?

He snatched his phone from the desk, desperate to make contact. His thumb hovered over the call icon next to Sierra’s name before he shook his head. She wouldn’t answer. She said as much.

At least she’d seemed confident that they were fine. However, he’d rarely known Sierra not to be confident. Sometimes too confident.

He tapped his fingers against the desk, drumming out a frantic rhythm as his mind spun in a thousand directions.

With a deep sigh, he forced himself to scroll past his daughter’s name and on to another financial contact. He pressed the call button and waited for the man to pick up.

“Charles,” Grant said, trying to force some levity in his voice despite the storm brewing inside of him, “thanks for taking my call at this hour.”

“Grant, what can I do for you?” the man asked.

“Lend me some money. I need a quick cash infusion for a project, and I’d love to throw my business your way.”

“Really?” Charles asked, the surprise obvious in his tone.

“Of course. We’ve been friends for a long time. I couldn’t think of a better person to include on this.”

Silence stretched between them before Charles finally spoke again. “How much are we talking? Word on the street is you’re already dangerously close to overextending yourself.”

“That’s completely false. This is a short-term loan. I plan to repay it in a few months. That’s how sure I am.”

“So, what’s the bottom line?” Charles asked.

Grant’s jaw tightened as he stared at the number on the sheet in front of him. He swallowed hard before he passed it along, trying to inject as much confidence into his voice as possible.

The laugh on the other end of the line stripped him of most of it. “Grant, you can’t be serious.”

“I am. Can you do it or not?” He tightened his grip on the phone as he waited for the answer.

A sigh sounded on the other end. Grant stiffened, wondering if the man was about to make his day.

“There’s no way I can approve that, Grant. You’ll have to look elsewhere.”

Grant’s nostrils flared as he held his temper in check, wanting to hurl the phone across the room. “I will.”

He ended the call, sucking in a deep breath before he tried another. With each declined call and each non-committal response, Grant felt the walls closing in.

He desperately hoped his name still carried enough weight to open a door. But the silence on the other end spoke volumes.

In dark times, it seemed no one was a friend. He exhausted the possibilities, not able to cobble together the funds he needed to clinch his position at Harrington Global.

His mind spun as every door slammed in his face. Mike’s words echoed in his head as he stared at the phone on his desk.

He’d taken shrewd, calculated risks before.

They’d helped build his empire. Maybe they could help him secure it.

His hand hovered over his phone, the weight of decades at Harrington Global pressing down on him.

He could hear echoes of his father’s advice, the lessons learned from boardroom battles, and the silent whispers of his own conscience warning him of the invisible line he was about to cross.

He snatched the receiver and dialed Mike’s number. The man answered on the first ring.

“Mike, I’m ready to move forward with your option. Set it up.”

“I’ll make the call,” the man answered before the line clicked.

Grant’s stomach clenched as he set his receiver down, doubts sliding into his mind. Was it a bigger mistake to owe money to the wrong people than to allow his company to slip away?

He slid one hand over a fist, his jaw tightening as he rested his chin against his knuckles. Time slowed as he waited for word on anything.

At least twice, he reached for the phone to call off the risky move, but he didn’t. He was out of options.

The shrill ring of the phone broke the tense silence in the office, startling him and sending a chill down his spine.

He snatched it, slowly raising the receiver to his ear. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.