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

Chapter 13Liana

Iflicked the lights of my hotel room on and came face-to-face with arctic eyes.

“Where have you been?”

My stomach dropped at seeing my mother seated in the chair, the full ashtray next to her hinting at how long she’d been here. My heart stopped, then kick-started with a jolt, drumming painfully in my chest. I knew what would follow if I played my cards wrong.

“I needed some fresh air.”

My voice was steady and my expression clear of any emotion.

“You’ve never been a good liar,” she said angrily. “Your eyes… They’re the windows to your soul.”

I stilled. The words—I’d heard them before. I searched my memory, different puzzle pieces shifting yet refusing to come together. Why were there so many holes in my memory? Black, gaping holes that sent me spiraling into an abyss where nothing and nobody made sense.

“Why are you here, Mother?” I asked, my voice hard despite the tingling in my fingertips. “It can’t be to discuss my eyes.”

My palms began to sweat, and I knew the adrenaline from earlier was wearing off. I couldn’t crash, not now. Not with her here.

“Do it.” Mother’s voice pulled me back. I watched as her eyes shifted behind me before I felt it. The prick of a needle. I went into fight mode, sticking to my training, but my vision blurred.

I blinked rapidly before everything went dark.

The stench of death filled my nostrils and blood pooled everywhere I looked.

Haunted screams. Evil laughter.

A scream bubbled in my throat at the sight of bodies sprawled over the filthy ground.

It’s not real, a whisper in my ear warned.

Yes, it is, another mocked.

“Why are we here?” I shouted loudly, but the only thing that came out was a whimper.

The place was loud, the arena full of battered men and broken boys. Being here was a bad idea and I knew it, but I couldn’t let my sister come alone. I reached a hand out for her, but all I got was empty air.

“I’m okay,” she said faintly.

“Where… Why…” I choked, unable to articulate what I needed to ask.

“Find him.”

“Find who?”

She pointed her finger and I followed, my eyes roaming the space until I found a stranger standing on his own. My brows furrowed. Why couldn’t I see his face?

“You shouldn’t be looking at him.” Who, I wanted to ask again, but my words wouldn’t form. “Not with all these eyes around,” my sister warned. “If Mother catches you, it’ll be bad. For both of you.”

My brows knitted and I swallowed, the warning unsettling. “You told me to find him.”

“When you’re alone. Not here.”

The whole arena was unsettling, like I was walking through a haze and only parts of the scene were in focus. I shook my head, letting the thought go. Somewhere deep down, I knew she was right, yet my gaze darted back to the person she’d pointed out. There was something about him that seemed to call to me.

“Ghost and Drago are next.” Mother’s announcement echoed through the arena like a deadly whip.

I waited anxiously, watching as the faceless man readied to enter the arena with Drago. Fear slithered through my veins, but I couldn’t understand why I was afraid. I wasn’t the one going into the arena with Drago, a man known for his brutality. I reached out to touch my sister, to feel something real, but I couldn’t seem to close the distance between us.

A movement caught my eye and I locked on Drago’s back. I felt myself moving toward him, my steps so light I wondered if I was floating. All of a sudden, nothing mattered except delaying this fight. I stopped just in front of my mother, making sure to ram my shoulder into the beast.

I barely knocked him off-balance, but he whirled around, his fingers connecting with my neck and tightening into a fist.

My breath hitched and my heart slammed into my throat.

“What—” I gasped. I hadn’t counted on Drago’s vicious nature overruling his fear of my mother.

He snarled, his face hardening. I barely blinked before he slammed my body into the wall. The back of my head hit the cold stone, causing my ears to ring and my vision to blur. It cleared just as quickly.

As my body slid to the floor, he was wrenched off of me. The sound of crunching bones filled the air, followed by a howl.

Drago was sprawled on the filthy ground, groaning painfully as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. A commotion surrounded me, and I brought my hand up to my hair to feel for a cut or bump. Why wasn’t my head hurting? I felt the impact, but somehow I felt nothing.

My sister grabbed me by the elbow. Mother hissed something, although I couldn’t understand a single word.

All eyes were on us, but I kept staring at the faceless man before me. My savior.

“Take them to their rooms,” Mother ordered. I glanced around, wondering who she was talking to. Her eyes locked on my sister. “Step out of line and you’ll both be punished.”

“Yes, Mother,” my sister grunted, dragging me along as the boy followed behind us.

The moment we were out of sight, he reached for me. Something twisted in my stomach, something that shouldn’t have been there.

“That was reckless.” His tone was full of disapproval.

My sister let out a frustrated groan. “You fucking think?”

Her glaring eyes darted between us. In rushed steps, we sped up the stairs and down the hallway to the east wing.

“I’m sorry.” I wasn’t sure who murmured those words over and over again. Was it my sister? Or was it me? It was all mushing together, right along with this guilt that was gnawing at me.

We stopped by our rooms and she headed straight into hers, slamming the door with a loud thud. I turned to the faceless boy.

He didn’t object, and I felt the emotions swirling around him like a dark cloud. “Don’t ever put yourself in danger like that again.”

I jutted my chin stubbornly, pressing my lips into a thin line. “You put yourself in danger every day for us.”

He let out a warm chuckle. “What am I going to do with you?”

Butterflies took flight in the pit of my stomach as I stared at the face I couldn’t see. I couldn’t understand… Why couldn’t I see him? Why couldn’t I remember who he was? To me? To my sister?

I knew he was someone important. But who?

A splash of cold water yanked me out of the dream. I blinked my eyes open, black dots swimming in my vision and water dripping off my eyelashes. I tried to make sense of it all. Why was my mind showing me myself when I was 14 years old? I knew it was just a dream, but the images seemed so real.

Disoriented, I waited for the room to come into focus, and the moment it did, my heart froze.

“Please… No,” I whispered. “Not again.”

I squeezed my eyelids shut before opening them again, but the reality didn’t change. The sweet haze from moments ago, filled with butterflies and warm hands, had vanished. I was in a tub now, my wrists and ankles bound. I studied the room. The bright white tile and walls blended together, their brightness magnified by the naked fluorescent bulb overhead. There wasn’t a window, but the door was left open.

“Finally awake.” Mother entered the bathroom, her stiletto heels clicking against the tile. “Did you get some rest?”

My lips thinned, refusing to answer. I hated when she did this shit. Even more, I hated that I didn’t see it coming.

“Not enough,” I hissed. “What are you doing here?”

“What have you done with the women?”

A shiver started at the base of my spine, the old me trembling with fear. Fear I thought was long since buried thanks to the days and weeks—maybe months—of torture I’d endured at her hands. I couldn’t stand the cycle repeating itself. Thoughts rushed around in my head for the best answer.

I landed on denial.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Her eyebrows rose in surprise at my calm tone.

“Tell me the truth,” she demanded, her jaw clenched. She wanted to believe me, I knew it. “This is a matter of life and death for all of us.”

I scoffed at that. “It seems you’ve already decided on death for me.”

“This isn’t a joke, Liana!” My mother glared at me, her Italian accent thickening. It was always the harshest when she was scared. “You know what the Tijuana cartel did to your sister. Do you want them to do that to you?”

I clenched my teeth, my voice lowering. I’d seen the video of my sister’s body dissolving into nothing. I’d tortured myself enough with it.

“Let them fucking come,” I hissed. “And I’ll end them just like they ended her.” My mother gritted her teeth, hating my rebellious streak. Lou was peaceful; I was a tornado. Lou was good; I was bad. Lou was innocent; I was far from it. “How can you even stand to work with them, knowing what they did to my sister?”

The black rage in my mother’s eyes couldn’t be missed. It was venomous and hateful, reflecting exactly how I felt about her associates. Hers was directed at me.

“You could get my father to help,” I hissed, my blood boiling. “He’d kill them all if he knew the truth.”

But truth was one thing Mother withheld. She’d used him, used all of us. She was Ivan Petrov’s wife but had fucked the Irish mobster, my father, Edward Murphy, with one purpose only. To get pregnant. Ivan couldn’t give her children and was more than happy to agree to Mother’s seduction plan. It put one more mobster in their pockets.

She wanted an empire; she got it. She sought revenge; she got that too, ten times over. This was her own cruel version of revenge against the world. Only, she was too blind to see that everyone—including her daughters—paid for it.

“Your father can’t help.” Something about the tone of her voice set my senses on high alert, but I didn’t dare question her.

Had something happened to my dad?

I hadn’t been able to get in touch with him for a while now, but that was nothing unusual. Sometimes he and Mother went through episodes of total silence. Growing up, they included us in their petty power plays, but my sister and I always had each other to lean on. It hurt that they couldn’t ever put their differences aside for us, but it brought us closer.

I didn’t have that anchor anymore. And I’d hardened that organ called a heart.

“It’s just you and me, Liana.” She dusted nonexistent wrinkles out of her Oscar de la Renta dress. “And I won’t tolerate disobedience.”

Her pruney fingertips reached for the faucet, twisting it. The pipes protested, and when I took my next breath, the rush of icy water came running out.

Minutes blurred, and so started my screams.