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

We both shuddered through our release, and then Liana collapsed onto the bed. My body on top of hers, my mouth on the back of her neck. We lay there like that for what felt like eternity, lost in the fog, until the pleasure wound down and⁠—

I saw it.

My brows furrowed. I blinked, thinking my eyes must be deceiving me. Maybe I had finally lost my mind. I tried to breathe, fighting against the need to believe it and being too fucking scared to trust it was real.

“Kingston?” Her voice sounded far away. I pulled out of her, my cum dripping down her thighs. Liana sat up, but I gripped her hair. “Ouch. Let go of my hair,” she yelped.

Goddamn it. All this time… What could this… FUCK!

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I managed to say.

She turned and her eyes met mine. She attempted to push me away, but my grip on her hair was too strong. She winced, and a visible tremor rolled down her spine.

“I don’t know if this is some weird after-sex shit, but I’m not into it,” she growled. “Let go of my hair, psycho.”

My fingers curled around her silky strands, and I lifted them one last time. My heart came to a complete stop, the blood pumping through my veins.

Time slowed. My eyes landed on the marking I’d tattooed with my own hands all those years ago.

My legs weakened and I stumbled back from the bed, dropping to my knees.

All this fucking time, Louisa was with me.

Chapter 49Liana

Istared at Kingston on his knees, and before I could question him, he jumped to his feet and bolted out of the room.

My throat tightened as I stared at the empty space, immediately followed by an anger so deep I saw red. I gritted my teeth, my brain reasoning with me to let it go, but the vendetta brewed in my chest.

Pulling on a pair of shorts and a tank top, I stomped out of my bedroom and made my way toward his. I hammered on the door, then decided fuck this, and gave him the same courtesy he’d given me by barging in.

He was sitting on the side of the bed when I marched in, wearing nothing but pajama pants, his head in his hands and his gaze on the floor. A dangerous haze permeated the air, but I was too angry to heed its warning.

“What is your deal?” I snapped. “Every time you touch me, you leave me staring at your back—usually after you’ve dumped me onto the ground. I’m sick and tired of it.”

He didn’t look up.

My gaze roamed his bedroom, a bracelet of teeth dipped in silver and gold catching my eye. I narrowed my eyes as the whispers in my mind grew louder, but I quickly shut them down.

We’d settle this once and for all.

“Go back to your room,” he croaked, shadows moving in his eyes.

Silver rays from the moon filtered through the open windows, illuminating his half-naked body.

“Is it me?” I asked, my voice cracking. No answer, only heavy silence. “When are you finally going to tell me what I did? I’m sick of you speaking in riddles, I want real answers.”

Suddenly, I knew, this moment was it. This would determine the rest of our lives.

“It’s not⁠—”

I cut him off. “If you give me one of those It’s not you, it’s me lines, I swear to God, Kingston, I’m going to murder you.”

He looked up at me then, and what I saw on his face was a brand-new emotion. The turmoil and warmth in it made my breath catch.

“Come here.”

My body didn’t even hesitate to obey the command.

I felt vulnerable as I padded toward him, every inch of me trembling with anger and anticipation. He parted his legs, and I stepped between them.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his hands skimming up the backs of my thighs with a featherlight touch. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” Who knew such simple words could hold such weight. “Will you forgive me?”

“You…” I inhaled a deep breath. “You confuse me.” He looked at me like he was waiting for me to catch up. “Don’t make me… sad.”

His fingers tightened on my thighs, digging into my flesh. “Do you regret it?”

I inhaled sharply. “I thought it was”—Incredible. My fingers laced through his dark hair—“intense.”

His jaw clenched. “But do you regret it?”

“No.” Maybe it made me the bad, selfish sister, but I didn’t. “Not even for a second.”

He let out a tense breath and pulled me closer, pressing his face into my stomach. A shudder erupted beneath my skin, warm from his soft touch.

“You’re mine. Fucking mine.” He bit the outline of my nipple through my shirt. “I’ll slaughter anyone who ever puts a finger on you again.”

“You’re not a good man.”

“I’m not.”

“Good. I don’t need a good man.” My heart pounded at an awkward rhythm, wisps of a memory creeping into the corners of my mind. “I don’t want to sleep alone,” I croaked, my voice too raw, too desperate, as his face blurred through the mist in my eyes. I straddled him and his fingers grew firmer on my thighs, the fiery heat of his palms burning through my skin.