Page 36 of Merciless Queen

“What the hell is going on, Vanessa?” Lev’s sleepy voice comes from behind me, and I turn, catching as he reaches the end of the hall leading to the basement door, where half the time, he opts to sleep. He’s in sweatpants and a hoodie, gun in one hand, his other rubbing sleep-filled eyes. “Your text explained nothing.”

I scowl, crossing my arms over my robe. “You seriously didn’t hear the gunshot?”

“I was busy sleeping, unlike some. Two floors down at that.” He glances at my state of dress, brow ticking up. “You and Anastasia have a good night? You weren’t gone your normal four hours.”

“It’s been a night,” I mumble, biting my tongue through the bitterness seeping into my tone. “The guy I brought home just happened to be hired by the fucking Cosa Nostra. He’s a mercenary sent to assassinate me.”

Lev’s hand drops from his hair, his mouth following suit. “No shit.”

“I wish I was lying.”

Lev watches me from the corner of his eye. “You okay?”

I drag a hand through my hair, catching on the couple of knots formed from all the activity of tonight. “Honestly, not sure. I don’t understand what I did to them, and hate I never saw what was happening before it was too late.” Instead, I slept with a fucking merc whose sole intention was to take me out. I’m sure, there’s some sort of poetic justice in there that I don’t see.

Lev pulls out his phone, fingers flying over the screen. “Send me his name. I’ll see if I can dig up anything on him. As for thewhy, hate to tell you but you’re running an entire criminalorganization. People will target you simply for that reason alone. At any given day, there’s about a thirty percent chance you’ll be attacked by someone who finds issue with you or your policies.”

Didn’t need the stats laid out.

Numbers aside, ithurts. Not being a target—that I don’t really care about—but how tonight went down. I feel…well,used. When I told Zeno that it’s been a long time since I had a submissive man in my bed please me in such ways, it was the truth. Now the entire interaction feels like a well-designed lie, beginning all the way when he was a handsome stranger with bold eyes from across a club.

“I know,” I finally respond. “It’s more than that, though. It’s?—”

The front door opening again stops me, and I instinctually take a step, expecting one of my soldiers to be dragging in an injured Zeno. Instead, it’s Anastasia, whose dress is skewed and blonde hair messy. Her makeup is smudged and her eyes glazed but becomes sharper when noticing Lev and me standing in the entrance.

“Oh, hi, Mama. Papa.” She smirks at her own antics before she jerks her chin my way. “Hope your night was better than mine. Turns out, one of the guys wasn’t single, so his girlfriend walking in and finding her boyfriend with his dick buried in another man and me sitting on his face didn’t go well.” She grimaces. “I felt bad for her, but yeah, that was my night. Yours?”

Lev scowls, cutting me off before I can respond. “Ana. Ew. Not what I need to hear.”

Normally, I’d chuckle at her disastrous night, but I’m not exactly feeling humoured by a lot right now. “Still better than unknowingly bringing home an assassin. The guy was all a trap.”

Her mouth drops open. “Seriously?Yebat'.” The curse is harsh, and she turns her head to glance toward the front door. “That’s why my taxi passed soldiers all over the front?”

“He’s injured and out there somewhere.” Or he’s far away and managed to escape, depending how detrimental my gunshot was. “I should go help them.”

Anastasia scans my quick put-together outfit, a brow slowly lifting. “Or you can get some sleep and be refreshed for dealing with this shit tomorrow.”

Sleep. She wants me tosleepafter this breach? Papa would never, which means I shouldn’t either. The Bratva needs me now more than ever.

Lev drags his gaze up from his phone. “As much as it pains me to admit, there’s a small percentage of times—fifteen, to be precise—that my sister’s right, and this is one of them. I’ll stay awake searching for any info on this guy, and wait for the men to return. If they find him, I’ll wake you immediately. But you should rest because if Italy’s sent one man, what’s to say they won’t send more?”

“But why now? Papa’s been dead for two years. This is the kind of drama I expected back then, not now.”

The Petrov twins shrug simultaneously, but it’s Lev who answers. “Those are the kinds of answers we need, and I’d love to figure it out. But until he’s found, not much any of us can do.”

The logic is sound, even if I don’t want to hear it. Over the past two years, I’d been sure to spearhead much of our attacks or defense, always wanting to be leading the charge and proving to myself and others I’m not some little girl who goes running. But this night did shake me; the ease in being tricked and the news that the Cosa Nostra has something against the Bratva.

With a heavy sigh they know all too well, I concede by turning toward the staircase. “Fine, fine, you’re right. I’ll go text Dimitri too and update him.”

“And then sleep.” Anastasia ticks a finger in my direction, concluding my nightly plans.

Sleep feels impossible, but sure.

Lev scans his sister with a playful sneer. “Uh, yeah, you too. Shower and clean whatever—whoever—you brought back.”

“Funny,” she replies dryly, shoving his arm.

While they continue their banter, I ascend the staircase and head back to my bedroom. On my way up, I notice what I didn’t before in my rush down—faint blood drops. I pause, counting one on every second step, and grow even more annoyed. It’s already seeped into the pale grey carpet, which means it’ll probably require a replacement if the stains don’t come up.

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