Page 132 of Merciless Queen

“Because since the day you came home after the warehouse, you’ve thrown yourself into work, almost to an unhealthy level.”

“That a bad thing? I have an organization to run.” And to keep away from others’ grubby hands. “If that’s all you have to say…” I take another step, only for her to throw herself in front of me, making an X with her body to prevent me from passing. “Make your point. I have another meeting.”

“I wouldn’t be your friend if I didn’t mention you’re going to burn yourself out if you keep going. You have nothing to prove to anyone.”

“Noted. Thanks.” Even if what she’s claiming is ridiculous. For now, I have better things to do than listen to her heart-to-heart, so I step to the side, getting closer to the wall to pass, all for her to shuffle in front of me.

A borderline growl works up my throat and just when I’m about to explode, she asks, “How’s Zeno?”

The question throws me for a second, and it takes shaking my head to clear it of the numerous curse words I could use instead of cordial aloofness. “How would I know?”

She glances behind her shoulder before stating, “You talk to him every day.”

“I don’t.”Almostevery day is notevery. “We haven’t spoken in the past few days.”

I hate admitting that his lack of contact the past two days has made me wary. He’s gone from being annoying to completely giving up—which is good. I’m pleased he’s given up, and finally realized there’s nothing between us and this marriage is better off terminated. Yet, I find myself kind of, sort of, missing his name flashing on my screen.

Anastasia’s brows kiss her hairline. “Van, you ignored a distributor the other day to text him back.”

“He was annoying me.” Heat creeps up my neck. “It was the only way to shut him up.”

“Hm.” She purses her lips. “It might not be a bad thing to be his friend.”

“Except he’s not doing this to be my friend. He’s trying to get beneath my skin so I concede to the union.” This is along the same vein as when he let me out of his room, tried to be nice to me, learn about me, and then kissed me before he dropped the certificate on me. “It’s all a game.”

“And if it isn’t?”

The directness of her question stuns me because I don’t know how to respond. There’s no reality where Zeno isn’t fucking with me. “I…um—uh. He means nothing to me. Less than nothing.”

“Mhm. Well—” Shefinallysteps to the side and allows me by and into the main section of the bar. It hasn’t opened yet for the night, which is why my meetings occur mid-afternoon, before management gets swept up in the night’s rush. “Come up with an answer soon, or continue denying what could be and hate yourself in the end. For now, you two play nice.”

“Play nice?”

She gestures to one end of the bar where a lone figure sits on a stool, a beer bottle in front of him as he chats with the bartender who’s busy preparing for his shift ahead, like some welcome guest. And like unwelcome patrons, he’ll be tossed out on his ass after I’m through with him.

It could be anyone, if I didn’t recognize the windswept hair and his skin’s shade of a sandy beach. Everything fades until he’s all I see. The only thing my focus latches on, and my body reacts from his presence.

Howdarehe show up here? How dare he smash his way into my life again? And how thefuckdid he make it into Moscow without me being informed? There’s a reason I have the airport tracking if his plane requests landing, and this is it.

“What the fuck?” I breathe, the question for the woman beside me.

If Anastasia makes a face, I’m not looking. She nudges my shoulder on her way by, chuckling. “Don’t burn the place down. I’m off to my studio.”

I stride across the room, passing a few waitresses straightening up for the night, until I’m by his side. The bartender immediately backs away, conveniently finding somewhere else to be and something else to do.

“Who let you in here?”

“Anastasia.” He smirks around the bottle’s neck without glancing my way. “Not very loyal of her, if you ask me.”

Finally, we agree on something.“I meant, how’d you get into Russia?”

He rests his bottle down and spins on the stool. His parted legs leaves an opening for me to slip myself into—if I wanted to, that is. A passing thought driven by my absolute hate for the man and no other reason.

“My plane.”

If I could growl, I would. For now, I do what little I can and swipe his bottle away, placing it well behind me and far out of his reach. He watches with only amusement in his expression, which annoys me more because he doesn’t realize that this isn’t a game. I scan the room for the bouncers bound to be arriving for their shift soon so they can toss out the trash.

“Hello,moglie. I’ve missed you.” Zeno reaches for me, but I slide out of reach.

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