Page 113 of Reign of a Billionaire

The door opened and all hope shuttered at the vision of my mother walking in. Her eyes were blank, her gray strands a matted mess—she was a shell of herself.

The diamonds around her neck glittered, trying—and failing—to make up for their wearer’s emptiness.

Hate slithered through my veins, cold and venomous.

“You’re the cause of this all, Mother,” I spat out. “You destroy everything you touch.” My control was gone. My fear was through the roof. Panic set into my bones. I jerked against the restraints frantically. My life and my sanity depended on it. “Fucking everything,” I bellowed, my voice turning raw.

She stepped closer, her eyes empty.

“Let’s begin.”

The television flickered on, and my blood chilled. I watched my sister fighting against the men, scratching and clawing.Biting them. I jerked against my restraints, dread sluicing through me at what was coming.

And then the screams began. Hers. Mine. Ours.

I tasted her fear. I felt her pain. I lived her torture.

The first electroshock jolted through me, and a wretched sob escaped me.

The second electroshock followed. Breathe. Focus. Survive.

Then the third shock came. I shut my eyes and soaked in the finality of my twin’s death.

A fourth.

I lost count. All I could do was scream.

Heartbeats blurred. Words twisted. Days blurred.

“You took her from me.” I didn’t know why Mother was so furious. “I need her back. Understand me?” I nodded despite not comprehending what she meant. “Very well, Liana. Let’s start.”

Start what? I thought I moved my lips, but I didn’t hear the sound of my voice. My mind was in shambles. The ringing in my skull refused to cease.

Then the shocks came again, wrenching agony from my throat. It pierced my skull, splitting it in half.

That time I heard my voice. Although I wished I hadn’t.

The old me died that night.

The new me was born out of the ashes, a phoenix thirsty for revenge.

Chapter 54

Louisa, Present

Eight years.

Memories pierced through me like a sharp blade.

I had lost eight years of being me; eight years of loving the boy who protected me and my sister; eight years of looking for my twin.

I desperately tried to hold my tears back but was quickly losing the battle. One tear rolled down my cheek, then another, until it was impossible to stop them.

Finding Kingston’s dark gaze on me, we both ignored Dr. Freud’s eyes on us as the past danced around us. My eyes filled with tears again as I stared at him like I hadn’t seen him in eight years.

The boy was gone. A harsh man was in his place.

I couldn’t stop remembering the boy, memories breaking my heart slowly, wreaking havoc from the inside out.