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

Frustration rose in me. Or maybe it was jealousy? It was hard to decipher. I’d never been very good at regulating my emotions. All I knew was that I used to have my sister, and now I had nobody. Mother kept me too close to her to allow me the chance to grow close to anyone. Each time I did, we were ripped away. Giovanni was the exception, but still, I couldn’t believe in it with the same conviction as Kingston. It seemed too good to be true.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Fuck, was it my turn or his to ask questions? This man rattled me down to my core, and it was starting to affect my ability to stay vigilant. Fuck it—I was just going to throw it out there. “When will you let me go?”

The silence was deafening as he stared and stared and stared at me.

“When your mother’s dead and no longer poses a threat to you.”

My mouth parted, his jet-black expression leaving no room for discussion. My stomach dropped like lead. I didn’t want to imagine exactly how long he thought that would be.

“What if she finds us first?” I asked. I hoped she wouldn’t. I had no doubt that Kingston was capable of defending himself, but if she brought her goons with her, it’d be hard for the two of us to fight them all, especially Drago. Now that I was free of her, I didn’t want to go back to her poisonous bubble.

“She won’t.”

“You seem overly confident.”

I opened my mouth to say something else, but he beat me to it. “What’s your favorite ice cream flavor?”

I froze as the darkness morphed into a mirrored nightmare haunting my every dream. Flashbacks of my mother’s torture shot through me as fear crept into the corners of my mind. Her questions—much like this one—sent terror into the marrow of my bones. These were trick questions, they had to be, and pain always followed because I never answered them right.

My fingers curled into fists. It was like his words had tipped my world upside down, and I had no idea why. Would there ever come a day when I’d be free of these mood swings? “I like them all.”

His brow rose. “That’s not an answer.”

“It’s my final one.” I glared at him.

He leaned back into his seat. “You have a favorite flavor,” he deadpanned. “But for an unknown reason, you refuse to say it.”

I scoffed with a bravado. “And how would you know that?”

“Your eyes.”

“What about my eyes?” I snapped.

“They’re the windows to your soul.” My heartbeat tripped over itself. Where had I heard that before? “They tell me when you’re lying, when you’re sad or scared, when you’re excited.”

My cheeks heated, and I inhaled slowly.

“It’s my turn,” I rasped, my words tumbling from my mouth on a tremor, eager to move the topic away from myself.

“Then ask, ice princess.”

I gritted my teeth at the nickname. Answers first. Kill him later.

“What was the deal with you and Louisa?”

“I won’t be answering that.”

Frustration chafed beneath my skin, but it wasn’t as if I could call him out on it when I just did the same.

“Where were you when my sister was taken?” I asked, my voice cracking.

His cool gaze slid to my neck, probably squeezing invisible hands around it.

“I was right there, dying alongside Louisa.” He shot to his feet abruptly, causing me to flinch. “Where in the fuck were you? We talked about leaving for ten fucking years. Where were you, Liana?”

Then he turned around and left me staring after him. It had become a pattern—one of us was always leaving.

Chapter 43Liana

Ten years.

Kingston Ashford was our bodyguard for ten years, and judging by his tone, he blamed me for her death. And I… I couldn’t remember him. Except maybe in my dreams.

I shook my head side to side. No, that couldn’t be him. Not if he was my sister’s lover.

My heart only ever thundered like this when I dreamt about the faceless man or was with Kingston.

Being here, effectively stranded on this island, I was faced with the fact that my mother was at the epicenter of my life’s worst moments. I’d known this for years, but the way she’d weaponized my loneliness made it second-nature to overlook. But I wouldn’t run from it—from her—anymore.

The great Sofia Catalano Volkov.

I brought my cold fingers up, rubbing my temples and closing my eyes for a moment while flashbacks I couldn’t piece together sliced through my mind.

My sister. The video of her torture. Santiago Tijuana’s words giving me hope. The man I dreamt about whose face I never saw.

Could that be Kingston’s face? It would line up with his time under my mother’s control but… How was it possible that I didn’t remember him? Or the events he spoke about? Could I trust him? Jesus Christ, was I attracted to my sister’s man?

I couldn’t stay here. I couldn’t go home. Damn my mother. Damn this man who’d snatched me. All I knew was that if there was even the slightest chance I could save my sister—that she was alive for me to save—I had to try.

Rain streaked across the large windows, blurring my view of the ocean.