1. Giovanni
ONE
GIOVANNI
Present
I stood in front of the sprawling mansion, wondering if I was making a mistake. I owed nothing to the Volkov girl, yet here I was. It had been eating at me for the past eight years. I felt responsible since I did nothing when I’d first met the other Volkov twin… at her wedding to my uncle.
So there it was. A guilty conscience brought me to the doorstep of Kingston Ashford and Louisa Volkov in Portugal. Despite the late hour and being well outside the city proper, Avenidas Novas bustled with people, music, and laughter.
But all my attention was on the high walls in front of me… Ones that I imagined offered a sense of safety to those on the other side. A few smaller outposts were scattered nearby, lowering the risk of snipers, but the surveillance cameras watching every angle of the property sent a clear message.
If anyone showed up unannounced, they’d be swarmed by guards and shot on the spot without hesitation.
I lit up a cigarette, placed it in my mouth, and stepped forward, positioning myself directly in front of the gate. As expected, the gate opened and two guards appeared out of thin air. Kingston Ashford had trained them well.
“Hands up where we can see them,” one of the guards boomed in thickly accented English. The sound of a clicking gun came from behind me. “Now.”
Cigarette still in my mouth, I did as I was told, then slowly spun around. A guard held a gun at his side, his attention on me, while another pointed an AK-47 in my direction.
“Mr. Agosti?” he spluttered, his eyes widening.
“One and only.”
He relaxed his stance, holstering his weapon. “My apologies, you’re a day early.”
I smirked, taking the cigarette out of my mouth.
“I’m busy for the next several weeks. I figured my gracious hosts wouldn’t mind. I certainly won’t make the same assumption next time.” His brow furrowed and he shared a glance with the other guard, but said nothing. I motioned at him when he remained immobile. “Now, take me to your boss.”
He puffed his chest out.
“Right away, Mr. Agosti,” he faltered, his voice hesitant when he continued, “Or should I call you Mr. Tijuana?”
I gritted my teeth at the last name, the bitter reminder of my mother’s betrayal and lies. “Agosti is fine.”
The Agosti name was on my birth certificate. It was the name I grew up with. As a boy and young man, I was proud of it. It garnered respect and fear.
But it turned out that I wasn’t an Agosti at all. Imagine everyone’s surprise when Santiago Tijuana reached out, naming me his sole heir. Oh, the fucking irony.
Of all the people in the world, my mother had spread her legs for Santiago Tijuana’s brother. And because Santiago—my uncle, as it turned out—had a sick sense of humor and lost his only son, I’d found myself as the head of the Tijuana Cartel.
Despite finding out we didn’t share any blood, Mateo Agosti named me his conditional sole heir—until his son was old enough to take the seat—to the Omertà side of the Agosti business in Italy. Honestly, at this point, it wouldn’t surprise me to learn that my brothers Romeo and Cristiano and my sister Marissa were illegitimate too, considering the numerous affairs my mother had under her belt.
We made our way across the yard, one guard behind me and one in front, and I could see blinking cameras watching my every move. Once inside the mansion, I was led through the hallways and into an expansive library.
“Ah, Giovanni, you’re here,” Louisa exclaimed, her blonde hair framing her face.
My gaze darted around the beautiful room full of leather-bound books. Kingston sat behind a dark wooden desk, and his woman sat on the leather sofa with their newly adoptive daughter, Lara. Kingston and Lou found her during one of their missions and took her under their wing.
“You called. I’m here,” I answered. “Although, last time we met, you claimed to be Liana.” I raised a brow at the elegant woman.
She laughed uncomfortably. “It’s a long story.”
“I bet,” I muttered, acknowledging Kingston with a nod. When I crossed paths with this woman last November—almost a year ago now—she believed herself to be Liana. I’d heard that since then, she’d discovered that she was in fact Louisa Volkov.
A man I recognized as Alexei Nikolaev emerged from the shadows. The Russian had the same manic, cold ways as Kingston. Those two might as well be brothers; they had more in common with each other than with their blood siblings.
We greeted each other with a nod before I strode over and took a seat across from Kingston.
“You all want to tell me what this is about?”
“Lara, go check in with your instructors and start on your assignment,” Louisa said softly. “Once I’m done here, I’ll be over.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but Kingston chimed in with a firm voice, “This is for grown-up ears only, Lara.”
Her shoulders slumped before she nodded and, without another word, scurried out of the room.
The moment the door clicked shut, I grunted, “I have Omertà business to handle starting tomorrow, so let’s speed this up.”
Louisa jumped to her feet, making her way over to stand behind Kingston. Alexei, the forever silent shadow, stood by the door.
“I… we need your help,” Louisa said, and Kingston grunted, rolling his shoulders and turning to glance at her. She simply rolled her eyes. “We do. He’s our way into the flesh trade.”
My brows shot up. “Excuse me, what?”
“You’re head of the Tijuana Cartel,” Kingston said as if that explained it all. Yes, with my uncle’s recent death, I’d been thrown into operations, but I had already started making arrangements to end our involvement. In fact, even before his death, I’d begun intercepting some of his shipments and placing the women in safe houses.
“I’ve never dealt in flesh trading,” I grunted. “And I certainly won’t be starting now.”
“Don’t you want to know why we’re interested in it?” Alexei spoke for the first time.
“Honestly, I’d rather not.”
Louisa locked eyes with me. “I need to find my sister, and she’s somehow wrapped up in that world. You’re my only way in.”
My brow furrowed, the brief interaction with the young bride from years ago flashing through my mind. It was truly remarkable how alike the two were. But the sister Louisa was referring to had more gold than hazel in her eyes, and I had yet to ever find someone with such unusual—albeit beautiful—features.
“Your twin is dead,” I said in a somber tone. I’d heard enough graphic stories about it from my uncle to know it was the truth. “It’s been eight years since your twin fell into Santiago’s clutches. Surviving him could have been a possibility, but Perez Cortes…”
No more words were needed. Women didn’t survive Perez Cortes, not unless the cavalry was sent in.
“No, she’s alive,” Louisa claimed with a stubborn tilt to her chin that was far too familiar. “We got the DNA off a severed finger that was delivered to Kingston. It’s my twin’s.”
I shot a look of disbelief at Kingston. Maybe his woman had lost her mind.
“We didn’t expect this news,” Kingston explained “But Sofia shared some information before her?—”
“Untimely death,” I finished for him. “But you’re not seriously suggesting I insert your woman”—or was Louisa his wife now?—“into an auction, again . Because frankly, it was a dumb plan last time too.”
Louisa scoffed. “It was not.”
“It was,” Kingston grunted, scowling. At least he agreed with me. “And Lou won’t be taking any risks this time around.”
I wagged my head side to side. I was hesitant to believe their information. Sofia Volkov was not known for her honesty and compassion, and I couldn’t imagine that changing, even at death’s door.
And on top of that, I fucking knew nobody survived my uncle and Perez. Yes, the girl I met eight years ago was no less terrifying—maybe more so—than Sofia Volkov, but everyone eventually broke. Santiago and Perez were experts at breaking women.
The stories often haunted my dreams, digging their claws into me.
“You’re singing a very different tune from our last meeting,” I reminded her. “If I supported the flesh trade, I would have met the same end as my uncle.” She sighed, but the look in her eyes was one of pure determination. “I told you before, Louisa. You won’t find closure, only more questions. Perez Cortes is dead. Do you plan to take over his empire and dig for information?”
She would fail because Kian Cortes now owned that empire, and he didn’t fuck around.
“That’s not a bad idea…” she muttered, tapping her chin.
It was a very bad idea, and judging by the expression on Kingston’s and Alexei’s faces, they knew it too. Unsurprisingly, Louisa was the only one refusing to acknowledge defeat.
“It might fan the flames of your hope, but it won’t make her any less dead,” I told her, and saw Kingston wince slightly at my blunt words.
“She’d come for me,” she said as her spine stiffened and she straightened up. “I won’t stop searching until I find her.”
“Dead or alive, huh?”
“She’s alive.” There was that familiar stubborn expression from our last encounter again. “I can feel it.”
I shook my head, watching her carefully. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe, if she is alive, she doesn’t want to be found? She hasn’t reached out, Louisa.”
“You don’t know her like I do.” She threw her arms in the air. “Besides, she sent a finger to Kingston. If that’s not reaching out, I don’t know what is.”
I glanced over at Kingston. On his face was an expressionless mask, but tension rolled off him in waves.
“Even if she was alive, you might not like the version of Liana you find,” I warned her. Assuming she was even alive. Surviving my uncle would be a miracle, but Perez Cortes…? Impossible.
“Maybe, but she’ll be with me,” she claimed stubbornly. “And if you help me, I’ll be in your debt.”
I sighed inwardly. “You’re already in my debt. I saved you once before. Remember?”
Maybe I should have shared the bits and pieces of information I knew, but I didn’t have the heart to extinguish the hope in her eyes.