Page 105 of Merciless Queen

He spins with a snarl, his arms dropping back to his side. “You have no fucking idea what we endured. Whatsheendured. Your papa brushed over it like it was nothing.”

Then tell me.

“She never broke up with you.”

Like my words deflate him, his chest caves in, his shoulders slump, and with a ragged sigh, he replies, “She did. After what happened, she couldn’t do it. Said she needed away from me and the life I’d inevitably lead. Her and her family packed up and moved out of the country.”

Slowly, I pace a few steps closer, like he’s an animal poised to attack. “Canada. And you…visit?” My voice hikes toward the end, phrasing my statement like a question.

“I can’t let her go. Even when I told her I would, I can’t. She has no idea I’m the monster who stalks the shadows when she heads home each night.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a strip of material—a faded, green ribbon. With a desolate look, he explains, “She used to wear this as a bracelet all the time. It was the last thing she gave me. It’s never left my person since.”

My heart shatters for him, and I make it another step, pushing between the weight of his words. I make it the rest of the way and toss the journal to the ground to wrap my arms around Dimitri’s waist, offering him a hug—and understanding. A moment later, his arms band around me and he drops his head onto mine, hiding himself from the journal by our feet.

“Papa didn’t like how much time I spent with Katya,” he murmurs after a moment, his quiet recounting almost drowned out by the aching thumps of my heart. “He ordered me to break up with her. Tried to bribe her as well, though I didn’t know about that until afterwards. When she refused him…” A deep ragged breath blows over my head, and his hold tightens a bit more. “It was the night of our graduation party. Since I was attending school, the deal with your papa was that I be the contact for all the local teenagers to push product to them. I had a drug deal to complete on the outskirts of where the party was. Katya tagged along, even when I insisted she didn’t. The menwe were meeting...” Fingers dig painfully into my spine. “They weren’t there for a deal at all.”

“Dimitri—”

“I’ve spent years hunting them down, and I only have one more.”

I pull back to look him in the face, somehow knowing before he even says it. “Your father.”

He nods once, releasing me to brush a hand over his face. “No matter how much trouble he’s caused you, no matter how he betrayed us by working with Mancini,nothingwill be more deserving of death than that.”

“He’s yours,” I rush out, suspecting that’s where he’s about to end up. With a hand on his lower arm, I show him what words are not conveying.

“He’s my Boris. Please don’t tell anyone about her.” He tilts his head toward the door. “Not even them. For Katya’s safety.”

“Never,” I vow. “Your secret’s safe.”

With thinly pressed lips, he dips down to pick up the journal and deposits it into my waiting hands. “Been an insightful evening for you. What now? Now that you’ve read through his mind.”

What little he shared anyway. I tuck the book close to my chest and step over the disaster I’ve made in the room. The books were growing dusty from years of being untouched after his death, so they’ll continue to do so from their new place on the floor. Because I have no further reason to visit the past, and this room can be locked up for the rest of my time as a Pakhan.

I swipe my phone from the floor and head for the door. “Now life continues. It only solidified what I knew about Zeno and Serafina. As for the rest, well…who Papa was and who he died as were two very different people. Only one of them raised me, and that’s the man I remember.”

Dimitri steps ahead of me to get the door, and for the last time, I lock it shut behind me.

Sittingoutside a café in August is my definition of Hell. Not even considering the fact that because it’s summer, Ostia is still in full swing: with many residents not yet returning to the city. Busier means more people and potentially more danger.

But it’s where Serafina wanted to hang out today…even if she’s barely paying attention to me.

My sister sits across from me at the small, round table, her mocha untouched, and only a bite taken from her croissant. She’s entirely focused on her cell phone, nails tapping at the screen like her life depends on it. Every little tick grates more and more of my nerves until I drop my coffee mug with a bit of extra force to gain her attention. All I get is a brief flick of her eyes before her phone wins again.

I reach across the table for the device but with surprisingly quick reflexes, she swings her arms to the side and out of my reach.

“Who are you texting?” I grumble, lowering back to my seat.

“No one.” She doesn’t look up from her phone, but a faint blush creeps into her cheeks, and that’s when it dawns on me.Her inability to sit in the same position for more than two-minute increments, her nibbling on her lip, her blush?—

“Nice try. Who is it?”

“No one,” she repeats with exasperation, flipping her phone so it’s screen down on her lap. “Just someone I’ve started talking to.”

Serafina’s had boyfriends in the past, but they’ve only been minor flings, and no one threatening. Of the three guys I’ve had their backgrounds dug up, by the time I gathered all the necessary information, they were usually splitting.

But Serafina graduated a couple months ago, and now she’s an adult. Therefore anyone she’ll be talking to now is also an adult, and potentially seeking a different kind of relationship.

“What’s their name?” I keep my tone level in an attempt to be non-probing.

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