Page 84 of Reign of a Billionaire
He stood over me, waiting for me to take a seat, his crisp black shirt molding to his toned body. All he had to do now was flex those ink-stained biceps and I’d be a goner.
“I do.”
The birds chirped, the sound of the waves in the distance soothed, and the breeze calmed as he sat opposite of me. The man had to be the epitome of efficiency because he managed to shower, change, and cook all while I was getting ready.
“Do you enjoy it?” I was impressed my voice was even, hiding this attraction I felt toward him. I blamed it on that fucking scent of his. Vanilla and spice.
“I do.”
“Why?” Supposedly I’d known this man for at least a decade, yet I knew absolutely nothing about him. Maybe he could help me fill these gaps in my memory—without realizing it, of course.
He shrugged. “I like food.”
“So do I,” I remarked. “You don’t see me slaving over the stove.”
He snickered. “You’re too busy killing.”
“And you’re not? You’re a killer for the Omertà and you fucking collect the teeth of your victims.”
He froze, looking like a mannequin for a moment, before he resumed eating. Instant regret slammed into me. This man might look like a monster straight from my nightmares, but he wasn’t. Deep in my heart, I knew that. Considering his indoctrination by my mother and Ivan at such a young age, I was surprised he wasn’t more insane.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized. “That was uncalled for.”
It didn’t matter who he turned out to be or how many he killed. He was just trying to survive, just like anyone forced to endure the underworld.
He lifted his head, his eyes roving over my face before dropping to my lips. There was a look in his expression that told me he still silently suffered.
I picked up my fork and started eating. Scrambled eggs, almond croissant, blueberry pancake drenched in syrup. No bacon in sight.
We ate in silence for a while until he spoke. “Apology accepted.” My shoulders slumped with relief. His gaze flicked up, heavy and emotionless. Yet a storm brewed underneath his darkness, changing the temperature in my heart from cold to hot. Talk about extremes with this man. “On one condition.”
I scoffed. “This should be good.”
His eyes coasted down my body, leaving a trail of ice and fire in their wake. I shifted in my chair, suddenly self-conscious. I hated these newfound feelings of insecurity. That wasn’t who I was.
Impatience stared back at me. “Take it or leave it.”
Unable to resist my curiosity, I said, “What’s the condition?”
“You answer some questions,” he drawled.
My eyes narrowed. “Fine, but I reserve the right not to answer.”
“Fine.”
“And I can ask you questions too,” I amended quickly.
“Fine, but I reserve the right not to answer.” He threw my own words back at me with indignation. “Although, I wonder what you’ll possibly think to ask since you don’t even remember me.”
You and me both, buddy, I thought with a huff.
“Okay, now’s your turn to wow me.” I smirked. “Ask your question.”
He let out a sardonic breath. “You’re asking for trouble, aren’t you?” I shrugged my shoulders and rolled my eyes before he continued. “Why didn’t your mother save you when you were taken in D.C.?”
“Maybe she thinks I’m dead,” I countered. I didn’t think I was going to like this game.
“You were mentioned on the dark web. There’s no chance she would have missed it. Perez has had an eye on you for a long time.”
