Page 110 of Merciless Queen

As I thought before, he’s like an unwanted pest. A bug bite that just won’t stop itching. A shadow no sun can eviscerate. A drug no detox can cure.

Even throwing myself back into work over the past few weeks has provided minimal distraction. It’s good in the moment but the moment I close my laptop, lay down a pen, or leave a meeting, I’m right back in Rome with him.

I hate him for it. I want him gone.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Once again, a fresh wave of anger toward Zeno bombards me. If I wasn’t thinking abouthim, I would have heard the steps coming up beside me. I push off the railing, finding a man beside me.

He’s cute. Tattoos run up the side of his neck, stopping only inches from the mouth currently smiling hopefully at me. His hair is short—shorter than Zeno’s, and like him too, this man’s eyes are also green. But not a vibrant hue, rather a dull one. Like a field over a cloudy day.

Why am I comparing him to Zeno?

I should take this guy up on his offer. Let him buy me a drink, then take him home and fuck Zeno out of my head for good. Maybe it’s all I need. One fuck. A “normal” Friday night, and then the rest of me can return to normal too.

Instead, I step away from the railing. “Thanks, but I’m good. I was just heading out.”

After a quick text to Anastasia to let her know I’m leaving, I do, stepping outside into the rainy night, the cold drops falling on my face. For me, rain has always represented change. Growth. It rinses away all the bad shit to make room for the better stuff.

So why do thoughts of Zeno continue to plague me on my way home?

The secondI walk through the front doors of the mansion, Veles, my newest family member runs down the hallway—probably from his preferred sleeping location in my office—to greet me. I reach for the hyper Doberman puppy, lifting him into my arms as I head deeper into the mansion, flicking on lights as I go.

Zeno’s been amusing himself by sending gifts every week. The first two weeks involved flower bouquets, which I tossed out, not wanting my house to have anything fromhimin it. Anastasia saved them by taking them to the brothels, explaining fresh florals would brighten the places up. I couldn’t care less, as long as I didn’t have to see them.

Week three brought a brand-new Beretta. Given Berettas are manufactured in Italy, it’s likely Zeno’s people have a lot of dealings with the company. While the gun shoots with amazing accuracy—I of course tested—I gave it to Dimitri, not wanting to enjoy anything fromhim.

Zeno’s only doing this to make a point. The point being: he’s a dick who can’t take no for an answer.

Earlier this week, gift number four arrived like clockwork, and I couldn’t turn this one away. Like he knew, the asshole, I’d never deny such an adorable creature. I took in the Doberman puppy without a second thought and named him Veles, after the Slavic god who rules the underworld. A king in his way, like I’m a queen in mine.

I stop by the kitchen for a large glass of water, now wishing I took Anastasia up on her offer of more drinks. I certainly could benefit from erasing this pointless night from my mind. Going didn’t do any of what I hoped it would—bring back a sense ofnormality. Instead, it showed me how...differentthings feel now. I can’t even explain what or how, just that they do. I’d rather have stayed behind and continued what’s more important: hunting my uncle and Boris.

With a deep, annoyed sigh, I set Veles down and he trails behind me, his short tail twitching through the air as I head toward the basement. It’s Lev’s domain where he and Dimitri have been holed up for weeks. A warm draft greets me as I open the basement door and ascend the staircase into a wide-open space that’s a mixture of bachelor-style pad and evil genius computer lab. Veles makes panting noises and rushes past me, reaching the bottom before I’ve even made it down two steps.

Although Lev has a bedroom upstairs by the rest of ours, he usually opts to sleep down here, claiming the whirling from his servers lulls him to sleep. I suggested a white noise machine but hey.

Industry-grade servers are rack-mounted in a large contraption, which takes up an entire corner. Lights flicker and coloured wires bound tightly together run from them, connecting to more devices on a metal shelf beside it. I barely recall the names of all his devices, let alone understand their purpose. Lev once walked me through each of them, and then explained why he has duplicates of some.“For high availability,”he told me, which, if memory serves correctly, is a failover server. In case his main one randomly crashes, the other can adopt the load and everything retains its function until he resolves the issues.

Whatever makes him happy.

I find Lev and Dimitri where they’ve been for most of the month. Lev at a large computer desk in front of three widescreen monitors, his fingers flying across a keyboard as he remains focused on the centre screen. Dimitri is seated on the futon, a laptop beside him.

I cough to announce my arrival, only Dimitri glancing up. I cross the room and flop on the couch beside him while Veles hops up on his other side.

“Anything?”

“No.” He flicks the edge of the screen, where he has his email brought up, and what looks to be at least fifty outgoing messages, all with the subject line of his father’s name.

The two have been working hard to figure out which corner of the world Ivan slithered off to. His phone has been switched off, with his last known location being the edge of Moscow. Men were sent immediately but found nothing.

Dimitri grunts and leans back. He rubs a hand over his face, showing me how exhausted he is. Dark circles lines his eyes, his skin a bit shallower than days ago, and I wonder when he last slept.

“Tell Mancini about his sister?”

Putting aside my question about his sleep habits for the immediate future, I reply, “Yeah. Reached out to his second.”

Dimitri glances at me from the corner of his eye. “You didn’t contact Zeno directly.” It’s a statement not a question.

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