For the first time in a very long time, Mother looked alarmed, confirming that nagging suspicion I’d been having. But her expression told me she wouldn’t divulge a thing. I waited in silence, unwilling to be the one to break it.
She took a seat in her lounge chair and stared up at me with lethargy.
“I have to tell you something.” My heartbeat came to a screeching halt. A different memory filtered through. Ignoring the ache in my heart and ghosts that plagued me, I tried to focus on the here and now. I had to stay present.
“Are you listening?” Mother’s voice whipped at me. The lump in my throat grew larger as memories of my sister flashed through my mind, choking me. The Tijuana cartel tortured her. Would I find a similar end under Perez? I wasn’t sure when she left her seat, but suddenly Mother’s hands cupped my cheeks, her icy fingers digging into my skin. “How much did you hear?”
I swallowed. “Enough.”
“Perez won’t get to you.” I nodded, because there was nothing else to do. I wasn’t scared. Maybe I should let him get to me and destroy his operations from within. It actually wasn’t a bad idea.
“What… happened… to…?” I stammered. I should feel some emotion knowing Father was dead. It terrified me that I was becoming as heartless as my mother.
“Your dad?” Mother put into words what I wasn’t able to. I nodded. “He’s dead.”
“What happened?” I whispered, resigned.
“Juliette DiLustro.” The name didn’t mean anything, but I’d find out everything there was about her. “It’s been a while since he died.”
Silence lingered, and I waited for her to say something else, when she didn’t, I asked, “Who’s the Ghost?”
For the first time ever, my mother’s face lost all color, and her voice when she spoke was hardly audible. “Nobody important.” I narrowed my eyes, and she let out a heavy sigh. “She washes money for Luciano Vitale.” I stared at her in surprise. It wasn’t what I expected. “In fact, she’s his wife.”
She had to be lying. That explanation made no sense. Why not tell me that right off the bat? Why the fear in her eyes hearing that word? The Ghost.
“Is that the truth?” There was a hint of challenge in my voice. It was my turn to draw surprise from her.
“Yes.” Her gaze darted away, staring out the window into the dark night, and I knew it wasn’t. It was a blatant lie. There was more to this ghost than Luciano Vitale and his wife. “You better stop, Liana, or?—”
Or I’d have to pay the price. It’d be time for another torture.
My hands clenched into fists, and I turned to leave. Only once I was at the door, my hand on the doorknob, did I glance over my shoulder. My mother was still in the same spot, her face pale.
“I’m not going to stop until those who killed my sister are dead,” I said quietly, closing the door behind me. I was going to find out exactly who the Ghost was and what their connection was to my mother’s operations.
Because my sixth sense warned it had something to do with my twin.
Chapter 16
Kingston
She was in fucking Rossiyskaya Federatsiya. Russia.
It was the one country I’d never gone back to. I’d rather burn in hell for all eternity than step foot in that godforsaken country. Kingston Ashford died in Russia. In his place, Ghost was born.
I’d been beaten, broken, and torn down, only to be turned into a lethal assassin. During my physical combat training under Ivan and Sofia, I was an eager pupil so I’d become invincible. I vowed to myself I’d be the scariest man of them all so I could protect Lou. Then, in the blink of an eye, she was gone. When Alexei got me out of Russia eight years ago, there was nothing left of me. Nothing but a killer.
I utilized all that I’d learned to reinvent myself. Alexei offered me connections and a hand in kicking off my first business, but then I found my way into the Thorns of Omertà. It turned out I had a real knack for finding people and ending them. So, I became a sought-after assassin for powerful people—in and out of the underworld.
But nobody knew that. I hid it all behind my name. I’d learned to hide my cruelty and obsession with my victim’s teeth from my siblings behind an unmoving mask.
I carried a highly desirable last name, but unlike my brothers, I was only a shadow of the man I was born to be. My brothers constantly asked what happened to me. I couldn’t voice the words to describe those years since my kidnapping. Raised among the bloodshed and violence, fighting to survive, I became violence. It was part of my DNA and every instinct in my body.
So even though I’d been rescued from hell years ago, there were times when it felt like I was still there, in that dungeon, in that fighting ring.
I couldn’t close my eyes without remembering the days, the nights, and most of all,her. Sleep became impossible, the dreams too agonizing to bear. The memories haunted me. I roamed this earth without purpose even when I reconnected with my family.
Until I found her—them—again. Soof courseit would stand to reason that they were both in damn Russia, out of my fucking reach.