Page 140 of Merciless Queen

He believes the game is up. I think every piece hasn’t been moved across the board yet.

There’s no victor. We’re tied.

He takes another step. Another lurch of my stomach. I lean forward, prepared to follow him, even when my mind keeps me down. When uncertainty makes my limbs heavy.

“You concede so easily,” I taunt, unsure what else to say.

He glances over his shoulder. “I know when I’ve lost.”

“What about your vengeance against Papa?”

“At this point, I’m fighting fate, and honestly, I don’t want to fight you anymore. It’s not fair. You’re a kickass leader, Vanessa, and you deserve to rule the Bratva how you see fit and not be a decoration on anyone else’s throne. No man will ever be worthy of you, myself included.

Like he hasn’t just shattered me utterly and completely, he strides away.

He’s leaving.

He’s leavingme.

How many times have I ordered him to go home today, and now that he is…I don’t want him to. It makes no sense. All I know is I need him a bit longer.

But I have to let him go. It’s best for us both. After all the battles, I’ve conquered the war. Zeno Mancini will disappear from my life forever.

Yet, my stomach heaves as he takes his first step down the stairs.

I scramble to stand when he takes his second.

I speak when he’s on the third.

“Zeno.”

“Zeno.”

If I was a stronger man, I’d ignore her and continue my way out of the club, her city, country, and return to Rome to tell my lawyers to go ahead and facilitate the divorce.

Too bad, I’m fucking weak.

Three steps down the stairs. Three steps back up to the balcony. I remain by the staircase, waiting for her next command.

She nods to the space in front of her. “Come here.”

Like the Bratva queen she is, and the mere subject I am, I obey. She’s a leader in her kingdom. The couch is her throne, a place she’s comfortable commanding from. I cross the space, stopping where she gestures to.

She tips her head back to look me in the face, and even though she’s seated while I loom above her, she could very well be the one on her feet, considering how easily I crumble with her next whispered instruction.

“Kneel.”

I kneel in front of her, our faces aligned as she slides to the edge of the couch, one leg on either side of my body. I fight like hell to maintain eye contact, even as she cups my cheek and studies me. After a moment, her brows dip, as though she finds what she was searching for but isn’t pleased by it.

“Help me figure out why I can’t let you to go. Not yet.”

I know what she’s saying, and it’s not what I long for. This is only a temporary bandage. A goodbye for us both while she continues to run from everyone, even herself.

It’s all she’s offering, so it’s everything I’ll take. If I was a stronger man, I’d walk away now before I’m consumed by her. If I was a better man, I’d turn her down.

Except I’m none of those things, so I accept the drug she’s dealing. Treatment will come once I’m on my plane later, with only the memory of tonight and all the other days before today to cling to. Treatment will come the moment I sign the dotted line and end the marriage.

“It’s fitting, don’t you think? To end where we began.” I rest my hands on either side of her hips and straighten until my face is close enough, my nose brushes hers.

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