Page 88 of Merciless Queen

At least I finally have food. Until sinking my teeth into the turkey club, I didn’t realize how hungry I am, and how long it’s been since I’ve eaten. Zeno claims he won’t kill me but if he didn’t feed me soon, I’d be well on my way to dying by starvation.

Amazing how food slightly changes one’s outlook. Only ever so slightly, of course. Nothing life-changing.

I’m three bites through the sandwich, two mouthfuls into the accompanying chicken noodle soup, and one large swig from the ice water when the lock on the door jiggles. I finish chewing and rest the plate on the floor, pushing the tray away before he witnesses me devouring the food. No reason to think he’s owed a thanks for meeting my basic needs.

The door unlocks and opens, but it’s not Zeno standing there.

It’s Serafina, a key gripped in her hand while widened eyes stare at where I’m sitting on the mattress. She shifts her feet anda nervous energy exudes from her as she links her hands in front of her.

Venus bolts in the room, jumping on the mattress beside me, her tail whipping back and forth. I pet her head but slide myself between her and the food, unwilling to fight a Doberman for my one and only meal.

Serafina steps inside and all I’m able to focus on is her eyes. My eyes. Papa’s eyes. And the surrealness of her very being. Everything I faced in the shower earlier, everything I ignored during the trip with Zeno, smashes into me again, dropping me right at ground zero.

It’s stupid to think I could have ignored her for long.

“Didn’t think your brother would allow you anywhere near me.”

Her teeth scrape over her bottom lip, and it’s strangely welcoming to know she’s as anxious as I am.

“Um, he doesn’t.” She releases her lip and manages what’s obviously a forced smile. “Can I come in?”

Am I supposed to say no?

I stand as Serafina enters, scanning the mess in the centre, the mattress, and the tray of food. A small smile graces her face. “Glad they remembered to feed you. And happy you’ve made a mess of this place. Sometimes, Z forgets he isn’t the boss of everyone.”

“Yeah.” What does she want me to say?

What doIwant to say? How should I act?

Nowhere in Dimitri’s training was anything abouthow to react to a newly found half-sister.I haven’t felt this…this…stuckin a long time. Since before Papa’s death and I was a teenager, caught between my fear of him and my self-determination not to let him win every argument.

Is she looking for an apology for Papa’s actions toward her mother? Toward her entire life?

“Look—” I start.

“I wanted to meet you,” she rushes out. “Properly, I mean.” Her hands drop to her sides, fingers pinching the edges of her shorts. “Zeno’s forcing me to go home but I don’t think it’s fair that I go without talking to you first. Like, alone. Finding out I have a half-sibling isn’t exactly how I assumed my day would go.” She rolls onto the balls of her feet and back, her hands moving from her shorts to weaving in front of her. “You didn’t know about me either, I take it?”

“I didn’t know my father had anything to do with your family whatsoever.”

“We have the same eyes.” She stares into mine, unwrapping every level of my control until I’m left useless and bare. “It’s the first thing I noticed.”

We’re alike in that.

Silence falls between us, an awkwardness electrifying the air. I don’t know what to say to this girl, what she wants out of this, and clearly, she doesn’t either.

She rocks on her feet again, a bit of a spark lighting up her gaze. “So you’re the leader of the Russian mafia. That must be pretty cool.”

“The Bratva. I’m called a Pakhan. Yeah, I guess cool is one way to describe it.” Papa would use words likean honourandmagnificentbutcoolalso does it.

She nods once slowly, digesting everything. “What’s Russia like?”

“Large,” I feed her that much. “Beautiful in the winter, and lively in the summer.”

“Rome is nice too,” she comments. “Too many tourists. It’s different than my quiet town, but sometimes I like that about it. It’s cool to see the different cultures visiting. Zeno never lets me travel anywhere, so tourists are the only way I’ll experience other places.”

Still, I don’t how to respond.

More silence until once again, she breaks it with her next question.

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