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The Billionaire's Secret Twins: Her Revenge Novel Cover

The Billionaire's Secret Twins: Her Revenge

I was four months pregnant, weighing over two hundred pounds, and my heart was failing from experimental treatments forced on me as a child. My doctor looked at me with clinical detachment and told me I was in a death sentence: if I kept the baby, I would die, and if I tried to remove it, I would die. Desperate for a lifeline, I called my father, Francis Acosta, to tell him I was sick and pregnant. I expected a father's love, but all I got was a cold, sharp blade of a voice. "Then do it quietly," he said. "Don't embarrass Candi. Her debutante ball is coming up." He didn't just reject me; he erased me. My trust fund was frozen, and I was told I was no longer an Acosta. My fiancé, Auston, had already discarded me, calling me a "bloated whale" while he looked for a thinner, wealthier replacement. I left New York on a Greyhound bus, weeping into a bag of chips, a broken woman the world considered a mistake. I couldn't understand how my own father could tell me to die "quietly" just to save face for a party. I didn't know why I had been a lab rat for my family’s pharmaceutical ambitions, or how they could sleep at night while I was left to rot in the gray drizzle of the city. Five years later, the doors of JFK International Airport slid open. I stepped onto the marble floor in red-soled stilettos, my body lean, lethal, and carved from years of blood and sweat. I wasn't the "whale" anymore; I was a ghost coming back to haunt them. With my daughter by my side and a medical reputation that terrified the global elite, I was ready to dismantle the Acosta empire piece by piece. "Tell Francis to wash his neck," I whispered to the skyline. "I'm home."
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Chapter 6

"Kat!" Bella's voice came from the hallway door, panicked. "Stop! You'll kill her!"

Katarina blinked. The red haze in her vision cleared slightly. She looked at Candi's bulging eyes. She wasn't worth the prison time.

She released her grip.

Candi slid down the bookshelf, gasping for air, clutching her throat.

Francis grabbed his heavy wooden cane and raised it. "You animal!" He swung it at Katarina's head.

Katarina didn't flinch. She caught the cane mid-swing with one hand. The impact stung her palm, but she didn't show it.

She looked her father in the eye. "You used to hit me with this when I was twelve. When I was too slow. Too fat."

She gripped the wood with both hands and snapped it over her knee.

CRACK.

She threw the pieces at his feet.

"I'm not twelve anymore, Francis."

She turned and walked out of the study. Auston scrambled out of her way, pressing himself against the wall.

Katarina marched through the ballroom. The crowd parted like the Red Sea. No one spoke. They just stared at the goddess of war passing through.

She walked out the front door, down the steps. The cool night air hit her flushed skin. Her hands were shaking. Not from fear, but from the adrenaline crash.

A black SUV pulled up. Solo.

She got in. "Drive."

Inside the car, she leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. "Did you get the data?"

"While you were putting on a show, I hacked their local server," Solo said from the front seat. "We have the ledger. Francis has been embezzling from the trust for years."

"Good," Katarina whispered. "Burn him."

They drove back to the city in silence.

When they reached the St. Regis, Katarina felt heavy. Her bones ached. She just wanted to hold Kaylee.

She entered the elevator. Just as the doors were closing, a hand stopped them.

Dimitri Shaffer stepped in.

Katarina groaned internally. Of all the people. Of all the times.

The doors closed, sealing them in the small, mirrored box.

Dimitri stood with his hands in his pockets, looking straight ahead. He smelled of cedar and expensive scotch.

"I hear you had an eventful evening," Dimitri said. His voice was low, vibrating in the small space.

"News travels fast," Katarina muttered, leaning against the rail. She was too tired to fight.

"Assault. Property damage. Threats." Dimitri turned his head to look at her. His eyes swept over her disheveled hair, the redness on her neck where adrenaline had flushed her skin. "You are a chaotic woman, Ms. Acosta."

"And you are a judgmental prick, Mr. Shaffer," she shot back.

Dimitri stepped closer. He invaded her personal space. He loomed over her.

"I don't care what you do to your family," he said. "But I meant what I said last night. Stay away from my son. I saw you in the hallway. I know what you are."

"What am I?" Katarina challenged, looking up at him.

"A gold digger," Dimitri said coldly. "A woman who uses her body and her drama to trap men. I won't let you use my son as a pawn to get to me."

Katarina felt a laugh bubble up in her chest. It was hysterical.

"Get to you?" She poked him in the chest with a manicured finger. "Shaffer, you have nothing I want. Your money? I have my own. Your power? I'm building mine. Your personality? It sucks."

Dimitri looked down at her finger on his chest. He looked surprised. Most women trembled when he got this close. Katarina looked bored.

"And as for your son," she added, her voice softening involuntarily. "He deserves better than a father who thinks everyone is out to get him."

The elevator dinged. Penthouse floor.

Katarina pushed past him. "Goodnight, neighbor."

She walked down the hall.

Dimitri stood in the elevator for a moment before stepping out. He touched his chest where she had poked him. It burned.

---

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