Page 10 of Merciless Queen

Especially since it was purely symbolic. His body isn’t beneath the ground because theFamiglianever returned it, despite Ivan’s constant attempts at communication. They’ve all gone unanswered, and I simply don’t care enough to reach out to Rossi myself. Papa’s gone, one way or the other, and whether they burned his body, buried him, or dumped him somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean—the body of water connected to New York—it changes nothing.

I stand in front of the large, white marble stone. The sun reflects off it and straight into my eyes, irritating me almost as much as the inscription does.

Ursin Volkov

Great Pakhan of the Bratva

Beloved Father, Honoured Husband, & Cherished Brother

Thebelovedfather part is questionable, and knowing him, I doubthonourableis the ideal way to describe his marriage to Mama. Evencherishedis comical. Papa and Ivan had a sibling relationship similar to two male lions competing to be pack alpha.

My gaze slides to the right, where a slightly smaller marble stone sits, dug into the ground the week after I turned two-years-old. Mama was shot by enemy fire before I could have any lasting memories of her, except for the single photo Papa allowed me to keep, taken at my first birthday party, the two of us smiling into the camera. No matter how many questions I asked growing up, or photos I begged for, Papa never revealed much.

I stare at his empty grave again. “If you were in there, you’d be rolling over knowing a woman is claiming your position.”

Soft wind ruffles the leaves nearby, and I’d like to believe Papa’s agreeing with my claim.

I snort. “Thought so. I’m going to run this organization how I want to, and not follow behind traditions established a century ago. So I wonder, which of us will be the better leader, Papa? There are some who follow the path laid by others, and some who pave their own.”

The wind is still.

“Nothing to say? Shame. I so miss your constant demeaning comments. Serves you right, though, for pushing yourself onto theFamiglia.Your insistence for the union never made sense to me, Papa. A wise move, sure; an empire the Rossis and Volkovs would build together, but you never saw how pointless your planning was, long before we even landed in New York. Your life was the price paid to finally make you comprehend that EricoRossi wouldn’t give up his wife. Still, I wonder why you were so determined for that union.”

A gentle rustle of leaves. Wind blowing across my face like a tender, apologetic kiss. Doubtful he’d apologize, even after death, but I like to believe it.

“Thank you, but you have much more to apologize for. Getting yourself killed in New York is a fraction of what you’ve done to me.” I pause, the list whirling through my mind. To say them all is to give a voice to every single horror. To not, buries the past, and that’s what I want…all except one. “I was fifteen, Papa. Christmastime at fucking that…” My voice drops to a whisper. “Iwillfind him, that I promise you, and when I do?—”

The wind blows again, a cool breeze flashing over my cheek, bringing awareness to the single tear dripping down my face.

At the same time, an arm wraps around my shoulders and a familiar scent washes over me. Dimitri, the silent killer he’s worked so hard at becoming, managed to conceal his steps as he approached.

“You’re allowed to cry. He was your father, after all.”

“How’d you know where I was?”

“Lev.” He doesn’t add further details, but knowing Lev, he probably tracked my phone, or my bike, or the damn satellite somewhere in space above my head, to pinpoint my exact location.

I acknowledge his answer with a slight grunt before shrugging his touch off. With a jerk of my chin, I ask, “Is it fucked up to be unsure if I’m happy or not about his death?”

Dimitri’s silent for a moment, his gaze studying the surrounding cemetery. Always on guard, never not checking for enemies. When he’s done his scan, he replies, “What do you think? Is it fucked up?”

I don’t know.“There’s some part of me that loved him, I guess. That wished he was still around. But he caused a lot ofpain, and I don’t miss it. I was on my way to a life of captivity because of his actions. If not Rossi, I would have been sold off to some other powerful man and forgotten about the moment the ring was on my finger and I’d no longer be his concern.” Anger flashes heat through my body. So hot, even the cool breeze doesn’t quell it. “Wouldn’t be the first time. So yeah, I’m pleased to have control over my own life.”

Dimitri nods. “It’s natural to feel confused over a complicated parental connection.”

There’s a familiarity in his tone that has me bluntly stating, “Like your own.”

“Mine’s not complicated.” Skin around his eyes tighten, masking the truth. The only thing my cousin’s ever hid from me. “Please drop it, Vanessa.”

“Dropped.” His expression smooths out in relief. It makes me want to inquire about his travels again—or the lack of. Since Papa’s death, he hasn’t made his out-of-country trips, but I’m secretly grateful to have his support in this time instead of whatever—or whoever—has him flying to Canada all the time.

“What you were saying when I approached…” Dimitri shuffles his feet and stuffs his hands in his front pockets. “You want to open that wound?”

A slap of hands.

The exchange of money.

A malicious grin.

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