The Billionaire's Secret Twins: Her Revenge

Candi stared at Katarina, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Katarina said. Her voice was calm, which made it terrifying. "You've spent five years feeding on my misery. Now, you can feed on the evidence."

Katarina moved. It was a blur. One hand shot out and gripped Candi's jaw, forcing it open with a strength that shocked the onlookers. With the other hand, she shoved the crumpled ball of photos into Candi's mouth.

"Eat," Katarina hissed.

Candi gagged. She clawed at Katarina's hand, but it was like clawing at iron. Katarina held her there for three agonizing seconds, letting the humiliation sink into Candi's bones.

Then she released her.

Candi fell back, spitting out the wet paper, coughing and retching. Her mascara ran down her face. She looked ruined.

"You maniac!" Elena, Candi's mother, shrieked, rushing forward. "I'm calling the police!"

"Call them," Katarina said, wiping her hand on a napkin she plucked from a passing waiter's tray. "I'd love to show them the forensic accounting of what you've done to my trust fund."

Francis stepped in, grabbing Elena's arm. "Quiet, Elena." He turned to Katarina, a greasy smile plastered on his face. "Katarina, let's not make a scene. We are family. Come to the study."

He gestured to the bodyguards to clear a path.

Katarina threw the napkin on the floor. "Fine."

She walked to the study, her heels clicking a death march. Francis, Elena, Candi (still sobbing), and Auston followed.

Inside the mahogany-paneled study, Francis closed the door.

"You look... healthy," Francis said, sitting behind his desk. "Investable."

"Cut the crap, Francis," Katarina said, leaning against the doorframe. "I want my mother's shares. I want the DreamLeaf patent rights. And I want full access to my trust."

Francis chuckled. He pulled a document from a drawer. "You get nothing. Unless..." He slid the paper across the desk. "You sign this. It reinstates you into the family. It gives you a monthly allowance. And it betroths you to Auston."

Auston stepped forward, adjusting his tie. He looked at Katarina like a prize horse. "It's a good deal, Kat. We were good together. And look at you now. You're finally worthy of the Mcmahon name."

Katarina looked at Auston. She looked at the contract.

She walked over to the desk. She picked up the contract.

"Worthy?" she repeated.

She ripped the paper in half. Then in quarters. She let the confetti rain down on Francis's desk.

"I don't want an allowance," Katarina said. "I want it all. And as for you, Auston... I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man on earth and I was ovulating."

Francis's face turned purple. "You ungrateful brat! You think you can walk in here and dictate terms? You have no power! You are nothing but a discarded vessel!"

He slammed his hand on a button under his desk. Two large security guards entered from a side door.

"Escort her to the basement," Francis ordered. "She stays there until she signs a new copy."

The guards moved toward her. Big men. Slow men.

The first one reached for her arm.

Katarina didn't retreat. She stepped into his space. She grabbed his wrist, twisting her hips to generate torque, and drove her elbow into his solar plexus with a sickening thud. It was a military-grade takedown, executed with the precision of a surgeon.

The man folded like a lawn chair.

The second guard swung a fist. Katarina ducked, sweeping his leg out from under him. As he fell, she didn't just let gravity do the work; she delivered a controlled kick to his temple to ensure he stayed down.

It took five seconds.

Katarina stood over them, not even breathing hard. She adjusted her dress.

The silence in the room was absolute. Auston looked terrified and aroused. Francis stared at her, his eyes narrowing. He looked from the unconscious guards to his daughter's relaxed stance. Where had the fat, wheezing girl learned to fight like a mercenary?

"I see you've been busy," Francis murmured, a new layer of caution in his voice.

"I learned a few things while I was away," Katarina said.

Candi, huddled in a chair, found her voice. It was shrill and venomous.

"You're just a thug!" Candi screamed. "A thug with a bastard child! Where is it? Did it die? Or did you throw it away like trash?"

Katarina froze. The air in the room dropped ten degrees.

She turned her head slowly toward Candi. Her eyes were black pits.

"What did you say?"

"I said," Candi sneered, emboldened by her own stupidity, "where is the little bastard?"

Katarina moved. She crossed the room in a blink. She grabbed Candi by the throat and pinned her against the bookshelf. Books tumbled down, hitting Candi on the head.

"Mention my child again," Katarina whispered, her face inches from Candi's, "and I will dismantle you. Bone by bone."

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