Page 6 of Merciless Queen

Especially if they refuse to fall in line. The moment Papa dropped dead, it signalled a shift in the Bratva. After decades of the same structure, the same people controlling things, it ended with a single bullet from Rossi’s gun.

This is me continuing the tradition. Therefore, while staring at the back of his head, which is covered with greying hair, I think how everyone here besides Dimitri and Lev is aging out of their prime. With Papa’s death, it’s time for them to all move on.

My impending first kill takes another step. The muscle in my upper arm shakes, but pure willpower keeps my arm steady under the gaze of everyone who’d love to see me fail. Knowing the basics of how guns work, and the kickback they have when shot, I wrap my other hand around the handle and spread my feet apart, gaining stability.

Bang!

The weapon throws me back into Dimitri, who immediately rights me with a reassuring squeeze to the shoulder, so I can witness the outcome of my trigger pull. The Brigadier drops dead, a clean shot to the back of the head. A couple inches away from where I was aiming, but it does the job.

My breaths feel stale, like I’m not really present. I assume it’s shock mingled with a bit of relief over what I just did. What I wascapableof doing. Any moment, guilt should anguish me. At least, that’s what Dimitri always warned me of happening. He also suggested making my first kill meaningful because it sparks an inevitable change. He’s said there’s a power that comes with killing and the realization that a single bullet can rob someone’s soul from them. End a life and become the reaper to decide when a person is no longer allowed to walk on Earth.

I didn’t believe I’d have my first kill at this point, but it’s not shame and guilt rolling through me, despite the fact that a familyout there, one loyal to my own for decades, just lost someone they love. It's relief, if not a bit of pride and apprehension. Change must happen. Change within this organization, and more importantly, change within me. I can’t be the girl all these Brigadiers think I am. The girl I had to be beneath my father’s reign. While I feel for the man’s family, I can’t be sorry over wiping out a cocky asshole who taunted me. The apprehension tightening my nerves is from the crowd’s pending reaction as they all stare, mouths gaping.

The Brigadier nearest to the body bends down, rolling his head to the side, before wide eyes scan the room, and finally landing on me to state,“Mertvyy.”

Dead. A word that’s never sounded better than this instance. If I was anyone else—a different gender specifically—it’d be expected that I remove any threat. And that’s exactly what I’ve done.

Chaos breaks out, yelling and shouting, and Ivan slams into me, stealing the gun from my grip before I can stop him. A heavy hand shoves me into the nearest wall, and beyond his shoulder, Dimitri moves to intercept, but I stop him with a shake of my head.

“What the fuck did you do?” Ivan growls, leaning in closer.

I thrust him off. “Let me go.”

His grip falters enough, I jerk away, throwing him back as the others move closer. Over all their heads, Dimitri leans against a wall, supporting me with a simple head nod and smirk because he knows what’s about to happen.

I reach for the gun my uncle stole, using speed to my advantage, and bring it up to eye level, scanning the room with it. Adrenaline pumping through my veins, I announce, “A new era is on the rise. You join or you die. You swore yourself to the Bratva once, to my father. Now, Iamthe Bratva. I understandwhat’s necessary for the job, and take that,” I angle the weapon toward the deceased man, “as proof.”

This asshole isn’t who I always dreamed of my first kill being. This was necessary but not ideal, when the man who deserves it is still alive, touting it up in high society circles in downtown Moscow. So close to my physical location and yet so far from being vulnerable. His was a death I’d been dreaming of since I was fifteen and his hot and heavy breath covered my face right before his body took the rest of me.

I blink, forcing my mind away from that train wreck and to a better time, and focus on the dead man at my feet. I wonder if his death will hit me later on. Maybe I’m still numb over the loss of my father. Maybe this will hit in days, weeks, or perhaps months from now.

My uncle backs down, shaking his head. With his free hand, he gestures for the men to leave. They cluster by the door, murmuring to themselves.

“This proves nothing, Vanessa. You will fail as a leader.”

My chin lifts a fraction, meeting his disappointment head-on. “Give me six months to prove myself then. If I don’t meet expectations in that amount of time, I will step aside for Dimitri.”

Ivan blinks, and for a second, I think I spot respect. That’s a start. “Three months,” he counters. “We will reconvene here in three months and decide if you’re suitable for this role. By then, everything you fuck up can still be fixed.”

“Three months,” I agree. They’ll find every way for me to fail, which means I can’t mess a single tiny thing up or they’ll use it against me. But in that time, I’ll train, I’ll fight, I’ll kill. I’ll claim control.

I won’t be Vanessa Volkov any longer. Weak pawn. Pretty decoration. Future wife and heir maker.

No. I’ll become someone new. Someone they won’t recognize, but will respect. Someone they’llfear. I have to do this. Hell, I want to prove myself to them because then all of Russia will understand. When news eventually spreads across the world that Papa is dead, they’ll follow up with naming me as his successor. If I prove myself to the assholes in this room, it also means establishing to the world that while the Bratva might be under new leadership, we’re stronger than ever.

Ivan throws me a final glare and trails the others out with a loud huff. The door slams shut behind him, leaving only Dimitri and Lev still in the meeting room with me. The moment we’re alone, my shoulders lower with my long drawn-out, exhausted sigh.

“Fuck,” I breathe, meeting my cousin’s amused gaze. “Fuck, Dimitri, what the hell just happened?” Now that the men have left, my façade is able to drop with the heavy realization I just did what I’ve always dreamed of making happen. But even so, it’s surreal.

Dimitri lowers his arms back to his side. “You just became a fucking leader, Vanessa.” He throws a glance toward the dead body. “You killed but you’re not a killer yet. You realize that’s what we’ll need to make you into though, right?”

“We?”

“Da,we. Those assholes will find every loophole in three months to ensure you don’t remain our leader, which means we’re going to ensure you’re the best fucking one ever. I know what they’ll look for. I’ll help you.”

He glances toward Lev, who’s now wandering closer. He nods his agreement and grins. “Count me in, obviously. Also, that took five minutes and fifty-three seconds. Impressive.”

Lev has…quirks. Ones I don’t quite understand, but I’ve come to get used to. He has an obsession with numbers, which I assume stems from his love of technology. He once told me hishobby is quite simple when thought of in only zeros and ones—an explanation I still haven’t deciphered. So the fact that he counted the time it took since I walked into this room to when Papa’s men left isn’t surprising.

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