Page 16 of Merciless Queen

A body sliding from the seat and landing on the floor, his blood pooling beneath my shoes.

I walk through the crimson liquid and reclaim my seat, gesturing toward my three Elite with the knife.

“Sit. We have work to do.”

“The Volkov girlis remaining as the head. She’s removing everyone from her father’s regime and replacing them with her own.”

“At least she’s smart enough to surround herself with people she trusts rather than her father’s minions.”

“Does this mean your new plan goes ahead?”

“Si. It’ll be more satisfying this way. More fitting.”

“Is waiting so long truly the best though?”

“Waited this long; what’s a bit longer? Besides, she’ll be on edge for the first while. In a few years, she’ll get comfortable in her role. Will believe she’s invincible. And that’s when we strike.”

In the centreof the warehouse, the man tremors, watching me slowly pace around him. One eye is swollen shut and the other is a nasty shade of vibrant blue and purple, courtesy of my fists. The sour scent of piss wafts from him, and the front of his jeans reveals a dark spot.

Charming.

“P-please, I-I-I swear I havenoidea where he is.”

“I find it extremely difficult to believe that, considering you’re his bookkeeper.”

He turns his head to follow my trajectory. “He took off into the night two years ago and never told me where he was going. Please,” he sobs, “I swear that’s the truth. He kicked me out of his accounts and went into hiding.”

Anastasia meets my gaze from her stance a few feet away. She shares my disbelief and rolls her eyes.

I stop in front of him, crossing my arms. “Is that why my people found your name on recent documentation, signing off on large cash withdrawals? He’s in hiding, and you’re sendinghim funds from his local accounts to offshore ones, which means, you’re lying. You still have access to his accounts.”

The bookkeeper’s face whitens, going as transparent as his lie. “But I don’t know where he ran off to. Believe me. Please, let me go.” Desperation mingles with the scent of piss and fear, his unswollen eye filling with pointless hope.

After the past hour being filled with tears, sobs, and pleas, I’m starting to believe heistelling the truth. The thin man with lenses in his glasses that are thicker than his arms isn’t a fighter by any means. If he knew where the Minister of Finance disappeared to, I’m semi-sure he would have given the location up an hour ago, to save his own skin. So there’s no point in dragging this on longer.

Besides, this guy’s a weak stand-in for the real thing. For the man I’ve been chasing fortwo fucking years.He disappeared right after Papa’s death when the news of me being his successor spread throughout Russia. Given our history, he must have assumed I’d be hunting him.

“If you don’t know where he is, tell me about the withdrawals.”

The thin man sucks in a deep breath, nodding rapidly. “Yes, okay. You’re right—I’m on retainer still. He disappeared, cancelled most of his cards, and is living a cash-only life so you can’t track him.”

Well, at least it confirms what I’ve suspected due to the timing of his disappearance. I became Pakhan, and the fucker knew what’d be coming.

“So I continue to withdraw cash here in Moscow so you have no way of knowing where he is. As for what happens with the money, I don’t know.” He blinks large eyes through the thick-rimmed glasses and licks at his parched lips. “Every month, I’m told to take out the pre-determined amount, place it in a cashbox, and leave the box on his estate’s front step. Someone comes to collect it. I’ve never stayed around to watch the process.”

I glance at Anastasia, who’s already on her phone, presumably ordering men to his mansion. This is a useful lead. If we stalk the house, we might become one step closer tohim.

“Who?”

The man jerks his head. “Not stupid enough to ask.” His throat moves with his harsh swallow. “When you work for those in the government, you learn not to ask questions. I do my job, I get paid. Nothing more I care about.”

That sounds too sincere to be a lie. I stare at the broken, quivering man who’s actually been somewhat useful. If only he would have disclosed all this sooner, he could have saved himself a lot of pain.

He’s given me all he can, so I throw an arm straight out toward Anastasia. “Knife please.”

The man gasps, all previous hope escaping him. His body slumps to the cement floor as though I’ve already stabbed him. His sobs increase again, his bottom lip quivering in a pathetic way that’s almost laughable. “P-please…let me go.”

With the blade Anastasia just handed me, I gesture for him to stand. He manages, staggering awkwardly, his bound hands making the movement challenging, along with the pain I assume he’s dealing with. He glances toward the warehouse door and then back to me, fear expanding with his every breath.

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