Page 61 of Merciless Queen

Zeno steps my way. “That’s not an answer.”

“But it’s the only one you’re getting,” I toss his own words back at him.

He smirks and takes another step. Another, until there’s a short distance between us. “You want to know why there’s war between our families.”

I tip my head up, realizing how little space there actually is. If I take one step, I’d be against his chest. “Yes.”

“Answer for an answer. Tell me what he did to you.”

I break his stare. No one outside my Elite knows. No one’s trusted with this fact because there’s little point. It happened. It’s over. And I’ll get my revenge on Boris eventually, but Papa’s long gone now. It was a moment in time that now only exists in my memories and my nightmares. To disclose the truth to Zeno feels…

I don’t know what it feels like, if I’m being honest. Wrong would be the correct response. Boris and my father used me intheir fucked-up political schemes. Put a price on every part of me and sold me to the highest bidder. But it also feels like something I should admit to Zeno. Everyone who knows the truth are close to me, but Zeno isn’t, and there’s a rightness in telling my enemy, even if the logic behind that notion makes no sense.

“Vanessa.” A gentle tone. A softer touch. His fingers come beneath my chin and with a barely-there stroke, he tips my face up to his. Bright eyes study me, my lips, my eyes. “Tell me.”

The last man I obeyed was Papa. When I took the Pakhan role, I vowed I’d never again.

Zeno’s broken through that wall for this instance at least.Answer for an answeris what I remind myself. If I admit this, I’ll get the truth I’m seeking too. And my truth reveals nothing useful because Zeno being aware of my shitty past doesn’t help him.

For every logical reason my head tells me, and for every illogical reason my heart pushes me to, I answer him. “Not what. Who. When I was fifteen, he sold my virginity.”

Zeno’s touch drops from my face and I feel bare. Barer than I already am. Like, as fucked up as it is, his palm sent a renewed strength through me that’s now waning with my every breath, every tick of the invisible clock around us, and every fraction of his faltering expression.

“Who?” His deathly tone kickstarts my lungs again, and I think it’s the only reason I manage to keep talking.

“Boris Agapov. He was once the Russian Minister of Finance. Being an insider of the government, he was valuable to Papa and there was also a revolving payout given to the Bratva each year. In exchange for the deal, the price was?—”

“You,” he cuts me off.

“Me,” I agree with a downturned smile. “Papa did a lot of cruel things in the name of the Bratva. He saw the only path forward was to kidnap women and children,trainthemin these facilities, and sell them off.” The horror they endured. The abuse, the rape… “He tried to kidnap and kill Erico Rossi’s wife all to force me into marriage. No one was ever safe from him, so as I’ve said before, yes, I’m aware he was a bad man. I experienced emotional and mental abuse. The yelling. The scheming. He never wanted a daughter, but Mama died before he could produce a male heir, so he was stuck with me. Eventually, he rationalized my gender by believing women are a commodity, so even bearing his last name couldn’t save me. Being the Pakhan’s daughter was enough for any man to want me as a wife, so he felt that my virginity—mypurity,” I spew the word, reminded of the way he said it that day, “could be an additional transaction. That it wasn’t needed for a marriage deal. And so, I was forced to give it up while being tied to a bed.”

When I finally stop talking, my lungs are working harder. My breath coming out shorter. I didn’t mean to reveal so much, but once I started, I couldn’t stop. Truths rolled syllable from syllable from me and it feels fuckinggoodto have someone else aware of what I lived through. Someone who has no real stake in knowing.

Zeno’s hard, deadly gaze is sharp on my face. Unblinking. And for the next five beats of my heart, neither of us move.

When he finally speaks, it’s with a low, grave tone. One that is warm and cold all at the same time. “You didn’tgiveit up. Don’t ever associate those words with what happened to you.Fifteenfucking years old…” His gaze finally breaks from my face and roves down my body, but more like he’s conducting a medical examination.

His gaze strips me bare. Makes me feel like nothing I have before. Disgust and protectiveness all rolled together in one look. One slow blink that has my hands linking over my stomach, my arms covering my chest. Not from him, per se, butthe memories of horrors past. Of what Zeno wants me to say. Of feeling…well,caredabout.

Once his examination gets too much—once my skin prickles and the urge to bolt grows stronger—I remind him, “Answer for an answer. What did my father do to your family?”

Zeno looks away, and I’m grateful for the reprieve. “Not what. Who.”

“Then who?—”

“Serafina.”

And then Zeno takes off, out the double wooden doors, and slams them shut. The lock clicks from the other side and I’m alone.

I didn’tknow.Didn’t realize. And honestly, didn’t imagine.

What Ursin did to Madre and Serafina, I long rationalized. He was a villain. He took the war to another level and destroyed my family, but I was naïve enough to assume his daughter was safe from him—especiallythat—selling her off for his own gains when she was still underage…Seems even Vanessa was a profit to be made, a connection to form.

It makes hating her that much harder. Surname aside, she’s more innocent than I believed. While I’m aware she’s not responsible for her father’s sins, she must be held accountable because it’s the only way years and years of work can pay off. I failed at taking out Ursin; if I let her go, I’ve failed Padre utterly and completely.

It won’t be the first time I felt like I’ve failed him.

Five. Fucking. Years. Five agonizing years in which Ursin Volkov and his family have roamed free while I’ve dealt with the trauma he scarred mine with. Five years of watching Elio, Padre’s second, take the position of Capo, even when he told theCommission he didn’t want the job, and to promote me, despite my age.

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