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

Locking myself in the bathroom, I started the hot water and peeled off every piece of fabric. My nose scrunched in distaste as I picked up a whiff of my own stench, surprised that Kingston didn’t spray me off with a hose.

I’d have done it to him.

I stepped into the shower and let out an exhale, closing my eyes. Hot water had never felt so cleansing.

It was the small pleasures that made everything better, made our childhood bearable. Whether it was sneaking ice cream in the middle of the night or tucking ourselves into a quiet corner and letting our imaginations take us away from Mother’s hellscape, we had each other. And then it was snatched from me.

My fingers curled into fists, fury coursing through my veins. It was her fault my twin was dead as much as it was mine. Yet, for some reason, she’d made me suffer alone.

I turned off the water with unsteady hands, then wrapped a towel around my body.

Why did Mother despise me so much? As her treatment

became more and more brutal over the years, I hoped my father would come to visit me and he’d see how much I was suffering. I hoped he’d see the error of his ways, and we’d join forces and destroy them all—Mother and the Corteses and Tijuanas of this world. Together.

I waited… and waited, but he never came.

Instead, Mother turned on me. Every time I deviated from the carefully constructed prototype she wanted me to become, she made me endure another session. My memories and those torture sessions had left me broken and scarred, despite the plastic surgeries.

Bile rose in my throat before I swallowed it down. Moving methodically, I dried off, hoping to scrub away from the past and focus on my plan.

Dressed into a pair of jeans, a light pink crewneck T-shirt, and a pair of Converse, I made my way out of the room and through the hallways, peeking inside each room. Multiple bedrooms in different shades of aqua, green, and blue.

My steps faltered at the blue bedroom. While the last two had been clearly vacant for some time, this one was occupied. A floor-to-ceiling window showcasing the breathtaking view of the crystal blue water. What in the fuck was this place?

Glancing around, I ventured inside.

A pair of military boots discarded at the foot of the bed. A wallet on the nightstand. An odd-looking bracelet with… My eyes locked on a revolver, bracelet completely forgotten.

Bingo!

I couldn’t believe my luck. I snatched the revolver and checked the chamber. One bullet.

I couldn’t resist a snicker. What kind of idiot left a revolver with a bullet in the chamber out in the open?

The clanging of pots from somewhere in the house startled me and I spun around, almost expecting someone to catch me red-handed, touching something I shouldn’t.

But the space was empty.

Gripping the gun, I followed the sound down the stairs. There was nobody in the dining room or living room. Another crash. I walked around until I found the kitchen.

And my captor.

To my amazement, Kingston was cooking—eggs, waffles, and pancakes. My stomach growled, despite woofing down my breakfast merely an hour ago.

He flicked me a glance, never pausing his movements.

“Good, you’re still awake.” His eyes fell to the gun in my hand, but his movements never faltered.

He was wearing jeans that hugged his ass like a second skin and a white T-shirt that revealed inky swirls. Despite his shortcomings, Kingston was a beautiful man.

“Obviously.” It pissed me off that I noticed anything about him. I should just put this bullet in his skull and end him.

Kingston didn’t appear bothered as he moved around his kitchen. And, since I was already noticing things about this man, I took note of his choice of design once more. Similarly to the upstairs rooms, this one boasted a wall of windows that led to the patio outside. For someone with such dark moods, this place seemed too cheery in contrast.

“Are you going to shoot me?” he prompted. My stomach growled again. Damn bodily needs. It was the last thing I needed or wanted right now. “Better hurry up and get it over with, then.” He nodded to the spread he’d laid out.

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for me to say something.

“I warned you,” I muttered. “I warned you that I’d kill you.”

“Go ahead.” The air vanished from the room at his cold tone, something about him unnerving. “But hurry up so we don’t starve to death.”

I remained in place, taken aback by the nonchalant tone of his tone.

“You ruined everything,” I gritted, keeping my aim on him and my finger on the trigger. “Now, I’m going to make you pay.”

“Are you going to hold that thing all day, or can you help set the table?”

I refused to move, and with a sigh, he moved to the cupboards and pulled out dishes and utensils. I let out a sinister chuckle. Watching him do such domestic things after witnessing his lethal side was a trip. Maybe the man had a split personality.

In no time, the table was set and food was on the table. Two plates. Two glasses. Two sets of silverware.