Page 3 of Reign of a Billionaire
The answer was my own whisper in the cell, my battered body too weak to move. But I willed myself to. I’d die with my hand on her beating pulse, on her chest as it rose and fell.
Crawling on all fours, my muscles shuddered, protested, and became weaker with each inch of space I covered. I felt my energy—what little life I had left—being drained as I fought to get to her.
I reached out, my hand brushing against her ice-cold skin. My breath caught as I draped myself over her unmoving body.She looked as though she were sleeping peacefully, despite her bruised body.
“Wake up, sunshine.” No response. I didn’t care if they continued to beat me until I was no longer recognizable, as long as shelived. “Don’t… leave… me…” I pleaded.
Her left wrist, mangled from where they’d broken it, was cradled against her chest, her body curled up. Unmoving. But my sanity refused to accept that she was dead. There had to be a way to bring her back. I’d do anything. I’d give anything.
The small tattoo on her nape—the one matching mine—played peekaboo and I pushed her hair over it, hiding it as she always did.
“I love you.” I whispered the words her romantic heart lived for.
She didn’t move. Surely if she was alive, she’d open those golden eyes, a mixture of brown and hazel, and smile at me. There was only silence and my shuddering breaths. The blonde hair sprawled all over the bloodstained floor. My blood. It soaked through her golden strands, her body battered and broken. My stomach revolted, but I kept myself from retching.
The bracelet I’d given her lay on the ground by her side, ripped from her wrist and crusted with blood. I sucked in a breath and reached for it, fisting it in my palm, the silver digging into my flesh while the emptiness in my chest grew, the gaping hole expanding until I became darkness.
I couldn’t live without her.
My every inhale was raw, shredding me to pieces. I gasped and clawed at my wounded chest.
I looked up when I heard a scoff and found Sofia Volkov staring down on me with wrathful eyes, surrounded by armed men.
My lip curled back from my teeth, hatred poisoning every ounce of humanity I had left.
I steeled myself and roared, “Bring herback.”
My body collapsed on top of hers, and for the first time in years, my world went still and silent.
Then the darkness descended.
Chapter 1
Kingston
Eight Years Later
When Ivan Petrov and Sofia Volkov made a ghost out of me, they never thought I’d be back to destroy them like a vengeful king. I reigned over my empire while lingering in the shadows and used what I’d learned to go after them—those who stole my innocence and the girl who was my guiding light.
But they’d underestimated how far my hatred could go.
I’d become a shadow, almost erased from this world. I’d stalked and planned for years, revenge the only oxygen I breathed and killing the only nourishment I needed. A bleak reality of life without Louisa.
But then I’d seen her—Liana Volkov, alive and breathing, working alongside her mother, strutting along as Sofia’s sidekick as though nothing was amiss. The twin sister we waited for the night we were all supposed to escape the clutches of Sofia Volkov. Years went by without a word about Liana, and I assumed she died too.
I’d been fooled. Louisa was buried six feet under in an unmarked grave while Liana walked this earth. An invisible knife speared my chest, blaming Liana for her twin’s death. She was the reason we waited too long before running. She was the reason we got caught. Maybe I should let the underworld catch up to her, because it didn’t take long for the Thorns of Omertà to learn Sofia Volkov had a living, breathing daughter.
The invisible wound opened right up at the sight of the woman who wore Louisa’s face, leaving me gaping and bleeding. Shrill ringing filled my brain as I glared at the familiar face, every single muscle in my body immobile. Same face; wrong face. Same smile; wrong smile. Same hands; wrong hands.
The voices in my head insisted on revenge.End her. Rip out all the teeth in her mouth. Make her pay.
Except, there was a promise made.Fuck!
I’d been watching her for weeks, unable to wrap my head around the fact that Liana Catalano Volkov was alive. Living and fucking breathing, while her sister died in agony in fuckingSiberia.
Pressure like heat in a kettle built behind my eyes as memories invaded, whipping through my skull with knife-like precision. The sound of her voice. The comfort of her touch. The softness of her heart.
A crater grew inside my chest and my mind, memories pouring out.
