Page 83 of Merciless Queen

I’m wondering where my sanity has gone. It certainly evaporated into thin air the second I decided to let her out of the villa. Completely gone when this conversation began.

I’d liketo say learning I have a half-sister is the most shocking part of my day, but turns out, it’s not.

It’s this-thisouting, for lack of a better term, with Zeno. There’s no reason he should have let me out of the villa and risked me escaping all for…what?

“Tell me the truth,” I say, twisting back to face him. He’s stretched out on the grass, his hands merging with the blades, seemingly relaxed. Which, why shouldn’t he be? Between the two of us, he’s not the captive.

He crosses his ankles, his injured leg on top the other, and fixes me with a lazy stare. “What have I lied to you about now?”

I gesture to the expanse of nature around us. “You said you’re playing nice by bringing me out here, but there’s no reason why you would or should. So tell me the actual reason for this run.”

As strange as it is, it’s not been a bad experience. This conversation seems like one that’d occur between two old friends. Not mob leaders on opposite sides of an ongoing war who share a history of blood and pain created by our fathers, and a half-sister stuck in the middle.

Zeno opens his mouth to reply but a shrill chime interrupts the otherwise silence all around us, and he slips his phone from his pocket, sitting more upright as he reads. Whatever’s etched on the screen, which I subtly try to read, but the glare from the sun shines right on the screen and blocks the words, makes his face go ashy. He rubs a hand over his chin, nods once to himself, and clicks the side button on the device, blackening the screen.

“We’ve been out here too long,” he says, leaping to his feet in an oddly fluid movement. “Let’s go.” Without giving me a chance to stand on my own, he reaches down and hauls me to my feet. My skin radiates a stinging burn from his tight clasp, which I manage to shrug off.

He nudges me in front of him, toward the slight rise in the grassy field. Clearly, we’ve finished our run for good. Whatever was in that text message shoved something up his ass.

Whatever.Only proves my earlier thoughts. None of this was a nicety. He probably just needed me out of the house while his minions built some impenetrable cage for me to be locked inside. Now that the cage is complete, the façade has dropped, and he’s back to being the asshole. I hate letting him play me like this. I should have taken off when I had the chance.

I stride in front of him and scan over the landscape. If he’s lied about the outdoor visit, he’s probably lied about the soldiers apparently not watching us. There’s no reason I should believe anything this man tells me. Hell, his whole story about fighting for leadership was probably bullshit too, as he only attempted to force a connection with me—for whatever pointless purpose.

“Why’d you never marry?” His sudden question makes my head spin.

I peek over my shoulder, finding his gaze locked firmly on my face. Warmth spreads as he inspects me, like he’ll find his answer in my expression. Which, if he’s good at reading disbelief, he’d see it.

“After your father’s death, I mean,” he adds with a slight shake of his head. “I understand Ursin planned to wed you off for his own benefit, but once you were settled as Pakhan, you didn’t think it’d be wise to align yourself with another organization?”

I don’t bother trying to mask my disgust. “And have a man try to take my Bratva from me? Fuck no. This reign is mine and mine alone.”

His steps quicken until his pace is matched with mine. “What about an heir?”

“Maybe in time,” I tell him, which might very well be a lie because the thought of children makes my stomach knot. The Bratva will need a successor eventually, but the concept of settling down and having a child holds no appeal to me right now. Besides, raising a child isn’t something I’m prepared for at the moment, and I definitely don’t want to be an emotionally absent parent, like Papa was to me. “A husband and kids isn’t something I want.”

Zeno grunts, accepting my response, which only makes me shoot his own question back his way, in the form of a statement. “Pretty judgemental for someone without an heir or a wife.”

“In time,” he echoes my response, his eyes a shade darker from earlier as they settle on me. “You really don’t trust anyone, do you?”

I circle a finger in the air, shooting him a disbelieving look. “You blame me?”

“In relationships, I mean,” he goes on as if I hadn’t spoken. “Two years of watching you, and never in that time have you had one. You keep everything casual. Surround yourself with a small group. My theory is, you’ve always had people undermine you so you never open yourself up to others to avoid being disappointed in them.”

My heart pounds so fast, blood races to my ears. “There’s a problem with that?”

Zeno shrugs a shoulder. “Just sad, that’s all.”

Sad. Erecting a protective barrier around myself isn’tsad. It’s smart. My Elite are trusted and won’t usurp me, so I need no other friends. And the power dynamics in relationships can be a bitch to navigate. It’s easier to be alone, to not love, than risk my stability after years chasing it.

Zeno’s only saying this shit to mess with my head, and unfortunately, it’s worked somewhat well enough that I’ve gotten so distracted, I only now realize we’re coming closer to the mansion.

Which means, back to captivity. If only I took the gamble earlier and tested Zeno’s truth-telling ability. Because as the hours slip by without my Elite’s arrival, restlessness grows. I need a plan B, in case Zeno changes his mind about keeping me alive. Sitting around doing nothing is stupid.

Almost as stupid as this entire outing.

I scan the land and toward the road we drove up yesterday at arrival. It’s probably the easiest and most direct route out of here.

I scan the roof again. There’s no one that I can see, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. If I call his bluff and there really are people, well…this won’t end well. Ideally, he gave them orders to only scare me, not to kill me.

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