Page 5 of Merciless Queen

I swear to you.

The Bratva’s agreement.

When sworn in, when pledging oneself to a new leader, for agreeing to be a thief in law, the Bratva’s description of this organization, the final words spoken areYA klanyayus' tebe.With this, everyone gets Dimitri is true to his word. With this, Dimitri is my soldier. Mine to control, to lead, and to command.

His vow might be the first said to me, but I promise myself, it won’t be my last. Not for Papa, but for me. I will make history as the first female Bratva ruler. I will be more than a pretty face on Erico Rossi’s arm, or any other man’s.

“K chertu eto!”The thick accent of an elder Brigadier as he yellsfuck thisand stalks around the table, coming closer. Dimitri stands from his bow, poised by my side, but he doesn’t stand in front of me, and I immediately know why.

The Brigadier slams to a stop in front of him, his finger jabbing into Dimitri’s chest. “No, I refuse to accept a whore as my leader. A woman willnotrun the Bratva. This is an embarrassment to centuries of strong men.”

Hell no.I step into the small space between him and Dimitri, making it known that he should be talking to me and not my cousin. As I move, though, my hand brushes the side of Dimitri’s gun, which is slid into a holster, strapped to his thigh. Dimitri and I haven’t gotten to this point in my training yet. I’ve held one to determine its weight and practice the ideal stances, but haven’t shot one.

Yesterday, Erico held one to my head when he threatened Papa, urging to trade me for his wife under the threat of death. If I was Papa, I would have made the trade to protect my own, but my dick of a father was so deep in his own plan to rid Rossi of his wife, that he was willing to give up his ace card—me. When Erico released me to fight my father and his men, I vowed then that the next time a weapon would be held against my head, I’d know how to properly protect myself.

It’s with that thought I slide Dimitri’s gun from his holster. He must feel me stealing it as the weight transfers from his leg to my hand, but shows no sign of caring. Even backs up a step to give me the space needed to lift the heavy metal weapon, lining the barrel with the Brigadier’s forehead.

He only laughs, enticing some of the others to as well. Ivan glances between us, his brows lowering as though finally comprehending this isn’t some game. This isn’t me playing dress-up.

“You will learn to respect me.”

The Brigadier barks another laugh. “Little girl, you’ve never shot a gun, and you’ve certainly never killed anyone. Let alone done any other crime for that matter.” He studies my bare, tattoo-less arms. I’m the only person in this room without amark on them. Tattoos in the Bratva mean shit. I know for a fact, Dimitri’s covered in them, as was my father.

But there’ve been enough instances where I’ve seen guns used that I can fake my way through this. I think—hope. With my left hand, I pull back the top of the gun—I really should learn what the parts are—until the room fills with a deadly, warningclick.

Finally, the Brigadier gets it, and with a gulp, he glances from me to Ivan to Dimitri and again. His hands lift, palms toward me in what I’d assume is a conceding action, except for his next words lessening the effect.

“So you’ve cocked a gun. There’s more to it, Volkov. Murdering a man takes guts we both know you don’t have. And to lead the Bratva, it’ll require more than one kill. Do you really want human lives on your conscience, when your cousin’s already sold his soul and can do the job well? You’re still savable.” His voice lowers, patronizing, the same way Papa would speak to me when he ushered me away from important meetings: like I wasn’t good enough to be nearby. “Running the Bratva means getting dirty. Means adopting a criminal’s lifestyle. The drugs, the weapons, the deals, the girls. Punishing traitors. You’re still a bright light in this world, as women are and should only ever be. To do this will darken your soul in a way you’ll never heal from.”

Of course, I’d already considered this. When Papa eventually got his way and married me off, I was prepared to battle my husband until he recognized I could be a force by his side, not a decoration on his arm. Have I killed anyone yet? No. But I’ll start somewhere.

My hold on the heavy-ass gun falters slightly, but thankfully, still remains upright. Dimitri’s been having me exercise as well to build strength, and without the dumbbells he’s often pushing my way, I doubt the gun would still be straight.

How many times have I overheard the screams of Papa’s victims? Or the blood he’d come home covered in?

Iama Volkov, which means damage, destruction, and death is in my blood. I might be a female, might be expected to contribute to the organization through other means, but it doesn’t indicate I’m less. With a little spark, the Volkov shadows will emerge. An executioner will be born.

I’m okay with that. Hell, I’m ready for it.

“Then I darken my soul and bathe in our enemies’ blood.”

He rolls his eyes. “Words. They’re only big words. Do you think anyone here would follow a woman, all for you to destroy centuries of power and influence?”

No.Truly, based on the way no one but Dimitri and Lev meets my eyes, no I don’t think they’ll follow me. But at this point, I’m too deep to back down. To close to my potential.

“I think they’ll follow me into the next chapter of greatness that we can bring Russia to, or they’ll step aside.”

Feet shuffle in the background. No one wants to give up their job, but if they were willing to swear fealty, they’d have done it by now. Their hesitation says everything.

“So that’s it then? We’re supposed to fall in line or retire?”

“Da.”

The Brigadier leans uncomfortably close, but it seems to be only for intimidation purposes. He presses his forehead against the gun barrel and declares, “Use me as an example then. You kill me, and perhaps the others will take you seriously. You don’t, you walk away now.”

Then he grins and falls back a step, even turning to face the table of mixed expressions. There’s a common thread in them all though: hatred. It’s okay because I’ll call his bluff, even if he believes I won’t. Even as he backs up two more steps.

I don’t really know these men, none of them besides Ivan, Dimitri, and Lev. Father kept me away from them and thebusiness they conduct, so they’re all strangers. They’re nothing to me. Disposable.

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