Page 39 of Merciless Queen

At nine-years-old, I struggled to understand what could possibly drive her away from faith. Then I grew up. I learned what she suffered, what she gained, and what she lost.

Which is why I too stopped believing. Without her nightly prayers before tucking me in, I was raised the majority of my life without Him, and now, I see what many don’t. Religion is a farce, a belief that gets people through but doesn’t truly exist. By Padre’s side, the peace and love and light my mother prayed for didn’t exist. Instead, it was battles and viciousness and darkness.

Without Madre’s guidance and love, my development was shaped by death and blood. My choices were to either become Padre’s second-in-command, or die. Kill or be killed.

A brutality no kid deserved, but a lifestyle I endured nonetheless.

So while Madre’s claim that those who are deserving have a guardian angel could be true, I’m well aware that I’m not deserving. Not anymore. But in this instance, I believe her because I think one is currently hovering over me.

One with eyes so dark, they reflect the shadows of Hell rather than the rays in Heaven. So maybe she truly is myangelo custode, because no guardian angel of mine comes from above; that’s not where my soul is destined for. I know she’s mine because her expression says she is. The furrow between her brows as her head tips. Her lips move but whatever she says is lost in my mind’s blur.

Maybe I’m growing mad like Madre did for a short time after experiencing what she had. Or the pain originating in my leg is making everything fuzzy and senseless, causing hallucinations, which is more likely the reason.

She frowns, but my broken, injured mind views it instead as a smile. A smile from my fallen guardian angel, complete with black wings and horns, so perhaps Madre is right.

Il mio angelo custodeis here because I deserve death.

And she’s come to deliver it.

“Yebat'!Vanessa!” A female voice but not my angel’s.

“I found him outside in the tree line. Call the doctor now.”

“Are you sure?”

A pause. Is this the debate on whether my soul goes up or down?

“Death from a gunshot wound is too easy. I need answers, and he’s useless to me in this condition, so yes, I’m sure.”

“All right then.”

Pakhan.

Vanessa Volkov.

That’s why I’m in Russia rather than my beloved Italian lands.

Why living beauty is hovering over me, her lips moving as she speaks to the man on my right. Their conversation is muted behind weakness so I can’t make them out.

I despise being weak. Especially now. Especially here, in enemy territory.

Padre would be ashamed.

Madre would tell me to keep my head high.

Except both aren’t around right now.

“You,and your entire family will pay for what you’ve done to mine.”

Death is one way…and if I survive, certainly a preferred path to vengeance. After all, can’t get more equal than a life for a life.

But Ursin would give his own life before seeing me?—

And it’d be Vanessa’s worst nightmare.

If I survive.

If I survive, might just have to see how future events unfold…

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