Page 51 of Reign of a Billionaire

“So she’s alive?” I ignored the way my voice cracked. It had nothing on the way my heart splintered. He laughed again, making my rage burn hotter. “Is. She. Alive?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

Hope and despair were at war in my chest. All these years, I’d never envisioned the possibility of her being alive.

“My mother…” My voice betrayed none of the turmoil inside of me. Unshed tears burned in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. “What does she know?”

He shrugged. “Why don’t you ask her?”

Mother lied to me, I realized with a new level of hatred. I always knew she was twisted, but this… this was a new low, even for her. My twin had a chance at being saved, and Mother did nothing. Fucking nothing!

Fury, hotter than ever, burned through me, making me see red.

Clenching my teeth, I pressed the blade farther into his flesh. “I’m asking you, suka.”

“My guess is she knows it all,” he gritted.

“You’re lying,” I said, desperation leaking into my voice.

He turned his head and smirked. “Am I?” Through the fog of pain, I knew he had to be taunting me. Stalling. “Your best bet is Perez if you want to find out where she is.” Is! Present tense. Before my hope could ignite further, he added, “Dead or alive.”

A tight band of anger wrapped around my ribs, turning my breaths shallow. This fury was directed at my mother. At the entire shitty underworld that used and abused innocent women.

In a sudden and precise move, I sliced his neck wide open. I slid off of him, careful not to get his blood on me. Instinctively, he reached up to stop the bleeding, but the gash in his neck was too deep. I took a step back, watching him gasp for air.

Blood soaked through his fingers, turning them crimson.

I didn’t move, not until the last flicker of life faded from his eyes.

As I stood there and took in my work, I decided that I would never go back to my mother. I’d find my twin—dead or alive—and take her where she always wanted to go.

Chapter 26

Kingston

The church was brimming with people who came to mourn—or celebrate—the death of Santiago Tijuana Sr. The man was a piece of scum who had it coming, but that didn’t stop people from putting on a whole dog and pony show.

There were slimy politicians, leaders of various criminal organizations, and any other gutless criminal with ties to the underworld. Human hypocrisy always amazed me.

But then, I was here too, along with Enrico Marchetti, Kian Cortes, Giovanni Agosti, Lykos Costello, and the Callahans. Of course, Perez Cortes wasn’t here—not that anyone expected him to be.

“Are you ready to take over the Tijuana cartel?” Enrico asked Giovanni, the latter in a piss-poor mood since he stepped foot into this church. Nobody wanted to be here, but he seemed particularly eager for an out.

“You weren’t the one who killed him, right?” Aiden was the more reasonable Callahan. His brothers—reckless twins—apparently had a bet going that Giovanni had been the one to finally end his uncle.

“No.”

“What’s the problem, then?” demanded Enrico.

Giovanni’s jaw clenched and his green eyes flashed angrily. “No problem at all.”

“Do we have any other information on Sofia Volkov’s daughter?” Marchetti’s words had my full attention.

“I do.” My eyes narrowed on Aiden. He better not be stalking my target, or I’d pull out all his fucking teeth and make him look like a ninety-year-old man. My darkness was tempted by hers, and while a sane person would reason it was a recipe for disaster, I wouldn’t argue. “I haven’t validated the source yet.” Awkward silence surrounded our pew. Most men here wanted to end Sofia Volkov and anything she represented, including her kin.

I, on the other hand, had an entirely different revenge plan in place—one that needed Liana alive.

“Well, don’t keep us in suspense, dear brother,” one of the Callahan twins muttered.