Page 154 of Merciless Queen

It’s almost like Ivan provided the ultimate test. He thinks I’ve failed for the choice I made, while I’ve confirmed I still have a soul.

Surprise sparks in Ivan’s eyes. “This right here is why years ago I said you wouldn’t be suited for the role and the sacrifices required. To be a leader, one must lose their soul.”

“Papa lost his after Mama’s death. You lost yours after what you did to Dimitri.”

He sneers, not questioning how I know about his past. “Love is a weakness, as you’ve witnessed today. My brother improved once he lost all those he cared about. As for my son, Imadehim better. He wouldn’t be a fraction of the man he is now if his whore was still around.”

“Your son will murder you if I don’t get the chance to today.”

He laughs once without humour. “You still think you’re winning?”

“Yes, because the game’s up. I’ve agreed to your terms. Let Mancini go.”

Ivan’s gaze flicks from me to around the room, settling on the soldiers behind me. His smile is slow and calculating, and a weight drops into the pit of my stomach.

“Wouldn’t you prefer to end the people who hunted you? This is your chance at revenge, Vanessa.”

He’ll never let Zeno go. I see it in the cruel glint of his eyes. I doubt he ever planned to either. Ivan strokes the gun alongZeno’s throat and for this, I vow Ivanwillget what’s coming to him. After Dimitri’s finished with him, I’m taking what’s left.

His finger moves to the trigger and red flashes over my vision. A picture of what’s to come. But it’s not Zeno’s blood. It’s Ivan’s.

Zeno shifts again, his arm coming closer to his body. With a quick wink at me, he tells me what his own plan is. His arm comes up, grabbing for the one Ivan’s holding him with, and the few seconds’ distraction allows me to retrieve my gun.

With a sharp shot I only have Dimitri to thank for, I aim the gun straight at Ivan’s leg and jerk the trigger. He drops with a cry, releasing Zeno, who immediately whirls around and locks his arms into an unyielding hold.

Ivan peers up at me, his face scrunched in pain.“Predatel'skaya suka.”

“Calling me a traitorous bitch is ironic coming from the man who worked with our enemies all to see me dead. Who kidnaps innocents to try to take back a losing game.” I stop beside him, sending a sharp kick to his ribs, pleased when he bows over, clutching both his side and his leg. “That’s for constantly underestimating me.”

A few soldiers led by Anastasia approach and I gesture to the pitiful man groaning on the ground. “Tie him up. We’re finished here. His life is owed to someone he’s hurt more.”

I back away to allow them to work without sparing a glance. Ivan doesn’t deserve any more of my attention. He’s simply yet another person who’s hurt me that I’ll now put behind me. With him in custody, he won’t be an issue any longer.

All around us, the few remaining soldiers of Ivan fall to their knees in submission, knowing without their leader, they won’t win this fight.

While Ivan’s being wrangled to one of the chairs he had Zeno and Serafina on, Zeno paces away a few steps, his back tome. His free hand cups the injury and I don’t think about the consequences, only every second since finding his life at risk. Seeing him tied up at gunpoint, and then injured.

I make it to his side quickly, swinging around to the front of him, peeling away his finger one by one, aware I’m likely doing more damage butneedingto see the injury for myself. To ensure there’s no bullet shards lodged in his skin again. To ensure he’s okay.

“Vanessa.”

His voice sounds far away, muted, as my attention remains on the only important thing. I rip the bottom of my top and loop the strip around his bicep, covering the blood as much as I’m able to.

“Vanessa,”he repeats firmer, his other hand coming up to cup my cheek. He forces my gaze away from the blood, his shredded skin, the part of him I feel helpless to fix. “I’m okay. Because of you.”

Viridescent eyes search me, his thumb stroking the spot beside my eye where some asshole punched me earlier. His mouth opens, his touch packed with a sentiment he’ll want me to face.

I can’t.

“You’re hurt because of me.”Because I was selfish and didn’t let you go sooner.

He reaches to cup the other side of my face with his other hand, a hiss escaping between clenched teeth as he stretches his injury. I’m about to call him an idiot, ordering him to relax until we can get him patched up, but when his forehead falls onto mine, I forget how to speak. How to think.

My eyes flutter shut.

“I’m okay,” he repeats, whispering. “It’s over. You did good. You saved me.”

He’s okay. He’s okay.

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