Page 53 of Reign of a Billionaire
The tension amplified, something shifting in the air. I reached for it and made my way to the freezer. Once I threw it in an empty spot, I turned around and faced them all.
“Next time, write an email. And don’t bring me body parts,” I snapped. “Unless they’re teeth.”
“Jesus, here we go,” Winston grumbled. “Just don’t do it in front of Billie. She’s still scared to be around you.” Byron leaned against the wall, not in any hurry to shut Royce up. “But if you want to end our crazy brother,” Winston continued, giving a pointed look at Royce, “I’ll help you bury the body.”
“I won’t need help,” I said, my words reverberating off the walls.
Royce grinned. “You wish you were that good.”
“I am.” There was no boasting in my voice. In order to survive under Sofia’s and Ivan’s thumbs, I had to become the best in everything. I had to become a living nightmare.
Strained silence reigned for a moment, then Royce’s booming laughter filled the space. He was the only one who saw humor in everything. It was enough to drive anyone insane.
“Body part aside, what are you all really doing here?” I asked.
“Why is there a bullet in the headboard of your bed?” Byron changed subjects.
“Why were you in my bedroom?”
“Royce was convinced you were hiding from us,” he deadpanned.
Disbelief had me angling my head and crossing my arms. “In the bedroom?”
Sometimes having brothers sucked. They were so fucking nosy. I didn’t even know how they’d gathered this latest information. It was the reason I rarely stayed in D.C. and had properties around the world that nobody knew about.
My expression blank, I let my eyes roam over each of my siblings. “Want to check out my bathrooms too?”
Winston folded his arms and declared, “Too late, Royce has already been there and done that.”
“Privacy must be an unfamiliar concept,” I deadpanned, narrowing my eyes on my brother. “When I agreed to getting this place, you all promised me my privacy,” I reminded them. “The keys I made for you are for emergencies only.”
“Most of us didn’t go snooping around your penthouse.” Alessio regarded me with a dry expression. Then he narrowed his eyes on Royce. “Only the guy with the finger in his pocket did.”
“Nobody was snooping,” Royce corrected him. “We wanted to clean it for you.”
“Would you shut the fuck up about the snooping and cleaning?” Winston drawled, rolling a cigarette between his fingers.
“If Kingston has a girl, we have to vet her.” Royce made no fucking sense sometimes. “And if she’s shooting at you—” He slid his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “Yeah, we can’t have that.”
“I. Don’t. Have. A. Girl.” My teeth were clenched so hard, my molars were about to crack.
“Ohhh… okaaaay,” Royce appeased with a drawl, rolling his eyes.
My gaze flicked to Winston, who shrugged his shoulders and raised his hands in surrender. “Don’t look at me.”
“Who’s this girl?” Byron stared at me, nothing but genuine interest and concern in his eyes. “We just want to meet her.”
I headed past them, making my way to the bar. If my siblings were planning on lingering, I’d need a stiff one.
I poured myself a glass of whiskey, then glanced over my shoulder. “Help yourselves.”
Winston shook his head. He gave up alcohol for his wife. Alessio and Byron poured themselves drinks, and Royce went for a beer.
“You know, baby brother, if she’s trying to kill you, you might need to let her free,” Royce stated, circling back to the previous topic. Unfortunately. “This girl might not be the right one.”
“I don’t have a girl,” I pointed out again. Clearly, he was slow to grasp. “You’ve made a wrong assumption. Again.”
“It’s not what I’m hearing,” Royce muttered. “That bullet in your headboard says star-crossed lovers heading for tragedy.”
