Page 63 of Merciless Queen

I scan the half-empty bottle of clear alcohol in his hand, trying to recall how full it was the last time I had some. Sober Nero is easier to deal with, though it seems like those days occur less and less lately. He claims it’s easier to drown the demons in his head than talk to them.

Nero Amato is my long-time best friend, despite his family not having any mob connections. When we were both eight, he accidentally drove his bike into my limo door at school drop-off. I’d already known him since we shared the same class, but the silly accident brought us together, and we never separated after that.

His father, who’s a baker with a shop in the downtown core, initially disliked that his son was hanging around the child of a known criminal, while mine hated me being around civilians. Neither separated us, likely assuming we’d eventually grow apart, but never did.

When we were twelve, Padre increased my training, and at fourteen, Nero joined the ranks, choosing the mob over being a baker, much to his father’s dismay because their bakery’s been in their family for five generations. Nero worked hard to catchup and in only one year, he was inducted. We fought side by side for years, ran businesses and deals and whatever Padre asked of us together, up until his death. Once I finally became Capo, Elio insisted on taking the position of Captain so Nero could be my second, stating it was only natural.

I drop onto the nearest chair in the outdoor seating set-up, kicking my feet up onto another. “You messaged. I responded. No need to worry.”

“Nah.” He shakes his head with a sly grin, coming over to lean on the chair’s backing that’s propping up my feet. “I meant, you were upstairs with her for so long.” His gaze flicks quickly to the second floor, though my room’s window isn’t in sight from here. “I was worried she finally fought back.”

If only she did. I’d much rather have had a battle instead of the verbal exchange we had.

“She’s not fighting at all, which is worrisome. The Vanessa we’ve been stalking wouldn’t be this accepting.”

After another heady swig from the bottle, he gestures to me with it. “She’s trying to lower your guard.”

“It’s working.” I deduced that much. Even buzzed Nero isn’t as helpful, and right now, I need my second. The man serious about his job so we can make it through these next few days.

Reaching forward, I swipe the bottle from his grip. His slow reflexes have him trying to take it back only after it’s in my hand. He grunts. “You deserve a drink after what you did.”

Without plans to have any for myself, I shake the bottle back and forth, the liquid sloshing the sides. “How long have you been at this?”

“Hm...” He purses his lips. “Not long. Bit before you pulled up.”

“Thanks for hiding.”

He crooks a finger toward me in a mock salute. “Figured she probably should think it’s only you here.”

“And Venus.” The dog’s lying on the wooden deck beneath my chair, soaking in all the afternoon sun with contented pants. “Two-timing dog actually greeted her.” Considering how Venus acts around strangers, surprise is too simple a word to describe my opinion on it.

Nero chuckles, rubbing a hand over his cheek, scratching at the growing shadow. “Odd considering a dog’s senses run strong.”

“Not strong enough to sniff out the evil in her blood apparently.”

Nero’s head tilts a fraction, dark strands of hair falling across his forehead. “That your way of saying she’s not like her father?” An unfazed gaze pins me with a look only a twenty-year friendship could manage. At least, some of the alcohol seems to be clearing from his system.

“No, and we knew that already so stop making me say it. Vanessa’s collateral damage. Price of bearing the Volkov name. Same as?—”

He waves his hand. “I know, I know. I get it.” He glances up to the second floor again, his eyes squinting with words unsaid.

For my entire life, Nero’s been by my side. He was there when my family was first ripped apart by Ursin’s actions, and again when Ursin shot my padre. He’s never been anything less than supportive in my war. Until now. Because his blatant avoidance speaks volumes.

“You don’t approve.” It’s a statement.

He frowns, coming back to look at me. “Since Ursin’s death, the Bratva hasn’t done anything because Vanessa’s too busy chasing her own domination to look into past debts. I feel for her, that’s all. Also, I’m worried about you too, man. For years, you’ve hunted this family, and now you have the creatin’s daughter, but what do you do? Keep her alive. Bring her back here. Guess I’m tryin’ to keep up.”

I rest the liquor off to the side, on the farthest edge of the table and straighten from my slouch. “Did a lot of thinking when I was shot, and realized that there’s other ways to get rid of the Volkovs without murdering an innocent woman. Madre’s pain lives on forever, so Volkov’s should as well. Had he been alive, he’d beg me to kill Vanessa over my newest plan.Un'unione.”

“Aunion,” he translates, coughing through his sudden inability to breathe properly. “You mean, you’llmarryher?”

Crazy, I know. Sometimes I wonder if the blood loss sustained from my leg wound fucked me up. Doing this would mean Ursin’s legacy will be completely tarnished, so it’s a debt officially repaid. Killing off the Volkovs is too kind when I can simply control them.

“Think about it. Miss Volkov wants nothing to do with marriage. She’s admitted it to me. She’s shown it in past actions. Since becoming Pakhan, there’s never been a hint of her seeking a husband. She’s desperate to stand on her own and prove herself to anyone comparing her to Ursin. If I kill Vanessa, one of three remaining Volkovs are gone, but the Bratva continues. Someone else will rise up in their place.” A point she made yesterday but I couldn’t admit how I already figured that out. “With her alive and linked to me, the Bratva is ours to control.”

His slow smile spreads across his face. “Diabolical. I kinda like it. Though it’ll have your father rolling over in his grave.”

“Yeah, but it’ll also have hers, and that’s the key part.”

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