Page 117 of Merciless Queen

“She’s skeptical that this is all some ploy, or to balance the scales for helping with Sera.”

Nero tips his head to the side. “Isn’t it?”

“No.”

He stares at me for a long second before shaking his head. “I hope you know what you’re doing with her, Z.”

The thing is…I don’t. So I can’t answer him.

Hangingup from my call with Zeno leaves a strange feeling circulating through my insides. Instead of focusing on it for long, I bottle it up until I’m able to unleash it onto the man who deserves it the most.

When my bike comes to a rumbling stop outside the warehouse Anastasia directed me to, I’m stuck. Stuck to the bike, my insides numb. I’m ready to go inside, ready to end this, ready to head into a future where Boris Agapov no longer exists.

The sun is nearly gone, casting a deep auburn and rosy glow over the undescriptive brick building. It’s fitting that as the day comes to a close, a life is about to end. When the sun rises over this warehouse in approximately twelve hours, Boris will be nothing more than a stain on my soul.

It’s that vow urging me off my bike and toward the warehouse door where two soldiers stand guard. One nods his greeting as I approach, the other utters, “Pakhan.”

“He awake?”

“Whatever the Italians knocked him out with started to wear off around the time Lev got him down here, so he injected him again, and he’s been out ever since.”

“Spasibo. You may go.”

They acknowledge with a nod and disappear around the corner. I wait until their car is halfway down the road before entering the building. The large metal door creaks and cries from age.

My eyes start adjusting to the dimmer lighting in the warehouse, which casts the corners into shadows. Luckily, the centre of the room is bright enough I’m able to see my captive. He’s the stream from Anastasia’s phone earlier, come to life. His body is slumped in the same position, useless.

But he wasn’t always.

My body won’t stop shaking but not from the chill. If anything, I’m hot. A feverish, overheated kind of hot.

Is this shock?

Maybe. Must be.

It’d explain why my body’s temperature took such a dive when hefinallyclimbed off me. When he stopped violating me long enough that his dick softened for good this time.This timebecause just when I believed this entire night couldn’t be worse than the acts committed, it was. Whatever drugs the asshole took prepared him to extend my pain as long as possible.

Three rounds.

Three times his disgusting DNA has marked my insides.

Three fucking times of me pleading, “No more,” all for him to ignore me.

This time, when he finished and pulled out of me, my insides cried in extreme pain before becoming numb. Difficult to feel at all when I don’t understand how to process this.

He rolls to his feet, gathering his clothes and keeping his back to me. Good. He better not turn around. Better not lookmy way. He’s done enough for a lifetime—morethan a lifetime, actually.

If I had any power in the Bratva, I’d promise his death, but even doing so in my own head is useless. The first time he shoved inside me, I promised to kill him, but as every round passed, he robbed more and more of that will. No matter what I said, no matter what I did, nothing changed. So neither would my useless, silly childhood attempts to one day slaughter him. It’s only a vow I’m setting myself up to be disappointed by.

The man turns—still unnamed but I pledge to learn it—while fixing his sleeves. Once he’s done, he reaches for my face, and while I attempt to twist away, he’s quick to grab my chin and force me to look at him.

“You performed remarkably, Miss Volkov. As I’ve said earlier, claiming your first time is something I’ll never forget.”

That wasn’t what he said. He used the termunused cunt.It’s seared into my mind.

“I’ll be sure to let my associates know you’re a price worth paying. Now...” He releases me to straighten, jerking his jacket shut and buttoning it up. “...if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with your father.”

He spins on his heel and walks away, leaving a broken girl.

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