Ravenous Kingpin (Kingpins of the Syndicate #4)

35. Emory

CHAPTER 35

Emory

T he minute Liana Volkov left, I explored every inch of this room for anything I could use as a weapon. Although, I suspected there was no way the infamously ruthless woman would have been so careless.

Liana seemed just as ruthless, if not more so, as her mother. It would seem the apple didn't fall far enough from the tree in her case. Jesus Christ! Why couldn’t Liana be more like her twin?

As I continued exploring, I opened the second door. It led into a bathroom that was equipped with nothing but a putrid-looking toilet, a sink, soap, and a toothbrush that’d seen better days.

I was just about to turn around when my eyes landed back on the toothbrush.

It could be a weapon, I thought to myself. I snatched it, then returned to my prison—back to the mattress on metal rods and examination table.

I paced in endless circles, my mind working on overdrive as one day turned into two. Two into three, then four, and soon it’d been a week… If my time-measuring system could be trusted, that was. It could very well have been a month or two days.

Things I did know for certain: Liana Volkov never returned.The toothbrush I’d been sharpening against the rusty pipes under my sink was deadly. And I was mad .

Slowly, time stretched, and I had no idea anymore how long it had been since Atticus had snatched me. The moment everything spiraled out of control, and I had been brought here to be butchered.

I still couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that I had been kidnapped for my liver. Would they take my other organs too? If they only took part of my liver, what was left of it could return to its normal size, volume, and capacity within a couple of months after the surgery. But something told me my other organs would be disbursed all over the world, and I wouldn’t be leaving these four walls alive.

It was all about an escape strategy now, and if I had to kill everyone in my path, I would. If I had to destroy everything on this continent to taste freedom again, I wouldn’t hesitate.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

There wasn’t an actual clock in this room, but I could hear it in my head. It was the sound of time running out.

I couldn’t wait for someone to come and rescue me. Killian was dead—oh God. No, no, no, don’t think about it . A sharp pain pierced through my chest, but I couldn’t wallow in it now. I had to be strong for our daughter.

There was a good chance my brother and cousins knew something had happened at this point, but Liana had time to plan her coup; more than likely she’d covered her tracks.

Which left Ines… God, I hoped she was safe, wherever she was.

Sometimes in the night or day when I would drift into sleep, I swore I could hear footsteps in the distance or clocks ticking, but nobody ever came unless it was to shove a tray of slop under the door, so I started to suspect it was all in my head.

I usually had about an hour of light per day, which I used to make little markings on the tile in the bathroom to track days passing, but the rest of the time I spent choking on agony in my pitch-black room. I ran my tongue along my lips. They skipped my meal delivery today, and I suspected it had something to do with the surgery they were preparing me for.

I woke up, blinking against the light, and it took a moment to realize it flooded the room through the door. The open door that led to freedom.

I jolted up from the creaky mattress and glanced around, fully expecting someone to be here, but found nobody.

It took a beat for my brain to process the meaning behind it. I’m alone and the door is open .

I blinked, then slid my feet off the bed, my heart beating in my throat. I still had so many things to handle and promises to keep. Find my daughter. Find Ines. Mourn Killian.

My eyes burned, but I blinked to keep the tears at bay. Now was not the time.

Finding my strength, I pushed off the bed and stood up. I reached under my pillow and grabbed the toothbrush, my only flimsy weapon, and with my heart in my throat, I crept across the room.

Once I reached the doorway, I poked my head out to find the hallway completely empty. And eerily silent.

Looking right and then left, I spotted a set of stairs to the left and headed in that direction. A quick survey told me I was in a house—a very large house—with a section that almost looked like a hospital wing.

The dread in the pit of my stomach grew. Something was definitely off, and my instincts were screaming at me to run. I ignored them as I made my way deeper down the hallway, where the scent of disinfectant grew stronger and stronger with each step.

Until another cracked door, so similar to mine, had me freezing in the spot.

My fingers curled into fists, the sharp point of the toothbrush digging into my palm, as I stared at the scene in the room, my brain unable to process it.

The lights were dimmed and a small body lay on the bed, pain etched on her little face. Beep. Beep. Beep.

The child was hooked up to an IV, the heart machine monitoring her vitals. And there was… Liana ? Holding the small, frail hand in her own.

A frown formed on my forehead as I studied the scene and the side of this woman I would have never believed existed if I wasn’t watching it unfold before my eyes.

I inched inside the room, something drawing me toward the child. Maybe it was her dark curls that fascinated me. Or maybe it was my usual curiosity that I couldn’t resist and would eventually be my downfall.

“Miss Cullen, thank you for joining us,” Liana greeted me, keeping her voice soft and her eyes trained on the sleeping form.

It was silly, but I didn’t want to wake the poor child either—even if she looked to be in pain—so I whispered my response: “You were expecting me.”

She finally turned her head slowly, as if she was exhausted, and met my gaze.

“I was.”

I tilted my chin toward the little girl and asked, “What’s wrong—” Her thick dark curls and thin, pale face twitched slightly at the sound of my voice, so I lowered it. “What’s wrong with her?”

“She needs a liver.”

I staggered back a step as realization struck me like a lightning bolt. She needed my liver for her—this poor, fragile child lying in bed and fighting for her life.

“And I’m the match,” I rasped, already knowing the answer. You just had to look at this woman to know she would stop at nothing to save her child.

The corner of her lips barely lifted, exhaustion lingering in her eyes.

“The only one I could find,” she admitted. “I even had your brother’s and his children’s medical records hacked. But they weren’t a match.” Shock vibrated through me, the toothbrush I gripped a moment ago sliding through my fingers and hitting the pristine floor. Basilio would go ballistic if he knew, although by then it would be a moot point.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was tiptoeing around the bigger picture.

When I remained quiet, staring at the tiny, vulnerable human on that hospital bed, Liana asked, “Do you know why?”

I returned to look at her. “Why?”

“Because you’re not a DiLustro.”

“Wh-what?” Confusion filled me and I blinked furiously. Clearly I’d been drugged. I struggled to follow this woman’s words.

“You, Emory, are not Gio DiLustro’s daughter.”

You’re no better than a dog. Your mother was one too. Fucking bitch in heat getting knocked up.

The words my father spat at me so long ago rang in my ears, turning my world and everything I thought I knew upside down. I reeled from this knowledge as I stared at Liana with suspicion, except she had no reason to lie about this. She already held me as her prisoner; she would get what she wanted.

“What about my brother?” I rasped, my eyes darting to the girl, something about her nagging at me. She couldn’t be older than five, maybe six. “Is he my brother?”

Basilio and I were never close to our father, but if she told me that we weren’t siblings, I’d lose my shit.

“Half brother,” she said in a bored tone, brushing a curl away from her daughter’s face. “He’s Gio’s son through and through.”

Disappointment filled me, but I knew it wouldn’t make a difference to him. He was my family and I was his, and nothing could ever change that.

“So who’s my father, then?” I asked. “You seem to know it all.”

She shrugged. “Don’t know, don’t care.”

I balled my hands into fists and located my shank on the ground, stepping closer so I could pick it up at a moment’s notice. This woman was sick, and I couldn’t let this little scene she was playing out here stand in the way of my escape. “So you drop that bomb on me and then feign disinterest. I see how it is.”

“I was just explaining why it came down to your liver.” A doctor showed up behind me, and I tensed, shifting my body to keep him and Liana in my vision. “If I could have spared you, I would have. But it is you or Amara, and…”

My breath whooshed out of me and the lights in the room seemed to flicker. But… It couldn’t…

I struggled to move my lips. “A-Amara?”

It had to be a coincidence.

“Yes, Amara is the baby girl you gave birth to. Keep up.” My head spun, my gaze darting between the sick, sleeping girl and Liana. “I would have preferred to keep her birth mother alive so if she ever asked about you, I could tell her where to find you, but…” She shrugged, and I was reminded how truly psychotic Liana was.

Amara, Amara, Amara .

I had to think. Had to get us out of here. My girl was finally here, so close I could touch her, pull her into my arms.

My mind reeled and my heart clenched. Someone called my name, and I reached out for support as I started to collapse.

To my surprise, Liana caught me before I could hit the floor.

“Breathe.” A firm order that I obeyed, still reeling from the shock. “Good, another breath.”

And I did, then another, before I could stand straight again. Before everything finally made sense. Before the world seemed brighter despite this predicament I found myself in.

But I had so many questions.

“How did you end up with my daughter? Did you even know she was mine? Why did you keep her from me?” I asked, words tumbling out of me and the need to learn everything about my daughter clawing at my chest.

“That’s a lot of questions.” Her calm and collected voice made me sound even more rattled. But this was my daughter we were talking about, remaining reasonable was impossible. “You know Gio fucked up a deal with the Tijuana cartel and Perez Cortes.” I nodded. “He used your daughter to settle a debt. I was assigned to be her…” She seemed to struggle for the right word. “...her nanny. Adoptive mother. Her guardian. Call it what you will.” I held my breath, hungry to hear anything and everything about my daughter. “I was eighteen when I was thrown to those wolves and I barely survived. Amara was a newborn and I knew she had no chance of surviving it, so I took her under my wing.”

“Thank you,” I rasped, a feeling of gratefulness expanding my chest. “Did they tell you she was… mine?”

She shook her head.

“They kept it under wraps. Honestly, I didn’t care who she was,” Liana admitted. “I wanted to protect her. When her liver started failing, and they couldn’t find a match, the cartel started to think of her as useless. I knew it was a matter of time before they killed her.”

My voice trembled, fear creeping into the corners of my mind. “What have they done to her?”

And you , I wanted to ask, but didn’t dare. I didn’t think Liana Volkov was the sharing type.

“Nothing. She was too young.” Relief hit me so strongly it brought tears to my eyes and I swayed on my feet. “But they were about to use her for her organs,” she continued flatly. “At least the ones that worked.”

I no longer cared about my organs. This woman could take them all as long as she saved Amara.

“How did you convince them to spare her?” I breathed, every word burning my throat. I should have been the one to protect my daughter, not this woman. It should have been me .

“I didn’t. We simply disappeared.”

My brows furrowed. “But you’re still in Venezuela.”

She chuckled. “The best place to hide is right under their noses. The Tijuana cartel was too dumb to look in Venezuela and so was Perez Cortes. It seems to be a common man trait, I’ve come to learn.”

There was no mistaking bitterness lacing her voice and I found myself pitying her. But now was neither the time nor place for it.

“When did you learn of her connection to me? Why didn’t you reach out to me?”

“I accidentally overheard Perez talk about Amara’s connection to you when he was about to have her butchered for her organs.” It was a good thing that man was dead because nothing would give me greater pleasure than to tear him limb by limb. “Like I said, I took Amara and we disappeared, and then I started to dig, and surprise, surprise when I learned Killian Cullen is her father.”

“You sound like you know him.”

“I know of him.” She flashed me a cold smile. “And at that moment, I made a choice that I’d protect Amara at any cost.”

My brows furrowed. “Why?”

“Call it a repayment.”

All this was getting to be too much. “For what?”

“For his parents’ death. It was my mother who ordered it.”

My hands shook, overwhelmed by everything I just heard. I couldn’t decide whether Liana Volkov was a villain or a hero. On one hand, I was immensely grateful to her for protecting and saving my daughter, and, on the other, I was furious she had kept her from me. If she knew of Amara’s identity, she should have reached out to me.

My eyes darted to my daughter, her little body fighting for a chance at life.

“It’s only right I give her my liver,” I whispered, grateful I got to at least meet her. “After all, she’s my daughter.”

Liana’s hand still on me, supporting me, she finally said, “Agreed. And know this, Emory, if I have to choose between you or her, it will always be her.”

Then everything went black.