Reign of a Billionaire : A Dark Mafia Enemies-to-Lovers Romance

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 fucking Siberia

.

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.

“I want you to marry me, Kingston,” she murmured, her voice soft and reserved only for me.

Louisa. My Lou.

“You’re not yet eighteen,” I said, pulling her closer to me. She rolled her eyes but immediately fell into my arms, unable to keep a smile off her face. Even when shit was hard, she found things to smile about, offering her sunshine.

“I might not live long enough.” She lifted on her tiptoes and brushed her nose against mine. “So why wait?”

I grasped her jaw in my hand. “You… We’ll live until we’ve earned our wrinkles and grays. Until we’ve seen our grandchildren and great-grandchildren walk this earth, as living proof of our love.”

I ran my fingers down the length of her silky blonde curls. Her golden eyes, speckled with hazel, met mine, and fuck, the urge to claim her drove me wild. But it was the heartbreak in them that kept me at bay.

“What’s the matter?” I demanded. She smiled again, but not as brightly. “Don’t tell me it’s nothing or there’ll be hell to pay.”

Her smile vanished, anguish in her eyes wrapping around my heart like a vise.

“Don’t hate me…” she whispered.

“I could never hate you.”

She looked over her shoulder, her fingers fidgeting with the buttons of my shirt, before she returned to watch me.

“Ivan—”