Love of a Queen: Chapter 3

The crimson color of blood washes away easily. Cold water rinses it from clothing, erasing the stain enough that you’d never know it had been there. And yet, it never really disappears from your memory, not when a whole life bleeds out.

Not when you sit watching to make sure every ounce needed to cause death leaves the body.

Pint after pint of Dimitri’s blood ran into the wood flooring. Ivan and I sat there in silence after he waved off the men.

“He was a good boy only some days, Katalina. Most days, he was evil. I will not mourn his death.” He clapped his hands as if we’d wasted enough time on him. Then he grabbed his cellphone and started texting away.

“Did you mourn my mother’s death?” My heart dropped, thinking of how she may have died: in her own blood, alone, without a soul to tell her she mattered. Had I felt like her all this time? Did I matter to anyone really anymore, or was I climbing through all this hell for nothing, for control of something I didn’t even know I could handle?

“Oh, very much.” He squinted off into the distance as if thinking about it, and for a few moments I had hope. “She would have led the bratva to rule the city if she’d taken the last step needed.”

My blood ran colder at his words, my heart hardened, and my skin crawled. She’d been another tool to him, like I’d been a tool of Mario’s for so long.

He shrugged at me like he knew why I was furious but didn’t feel any remorse. “Way of the world, Katalina. I was born into all this. I mourned what I knew. I knew she would be powerful; I knew her potential, and that’s all I can give. She knew that about me, huh? I wasn’t a father to her like your father was to you.”

“Nobody could be a father like him.”

“Maybe.” He nodded and scratched his head. “But I was proud of her. She believed in herself, unlike Dimitri. He wasn’t brave, not intelligent either. He made all the wrong connections at all the wrong times. The Armanelli family had nothing to worry about once my son was in power. They knew they would rule this city forever with the way he did deals.” The man cringed at a memory and then shifted in his oak rocking chair.

He spoke with clarity in his eyes, and his voice was strong, without hesitation.

Without a sign of dementia.

The slow spread of his smile had me walking toward him to study him more closely. I bent forward, hands on my hips, and squinted. “Is it early onset or did you stage it all?”

“Ah, sharp like your mother.” He rubbed a hand over the white whiskers on his face. “Once you pass your prime, you have to see how your kingdom will rule without you. I staged a few bouts of memory loss to sway them, sure. The onset is there, though. I just needed to speed it up. I wanted your mother to show me she could fight for her bratva. Yet her heart beat for her family first, for a brother that was no more than a—” He spat at the ground next to Dimitri.

I looked over my shoulder at Dimitri’s cold body, at the blood pooling on Ivan’s wood floors. “Do you have a cleanup crew?”

“They’re on their way, and their blood is your blood now, not the Italians’ like you thought.” He chuckled at the twist he’d put on the Armanelli’s oath. “You’ll learn quickly how well they will listen to you. They’ve all been waiting for you, for someone who could take on Dimitri. Your mother couldn’t. She couldn’t kill him. She hoped he wouldn’t be able to kill her either. Coward.”

“I don’t want to know any more, Ivan. What’s done is done.” All the emotions rattled around in my bones, and something angry ran wild in me. The ground seemed to wobble beneath me as I aimed for my chair.

“You will know. She was your mother. She was found beaten, assaulted, naked, and alone.”

I fisted my hand, pursed my lips to stop the ball of fury that built in my throat.

“He had some no-name do it, said he’d worked closely with Mario after, and Mario leapt at the chance.”

I shook my head. “Mario wouldn’t—”

“Mario did whatever he had to do.” Ivan slashed his hand through the air. “You’ll do what you have to do too. The bratva will rise with you, and you’ll implement what you want. This is your chance.”

I pictured my mother, how she must have been found, how so many women had been a victim to the pain on the city’s streets. I pictured Marvin standing over me unbuttoning his pants, myself being bait over and over again. I thought of Jimmy, of Georgie, and others too. Then my uncle, how he’d grabbed my thigh, how he’d told me I was nothing. I stared at his lifeless body on the floor and how the vibrant red turned a darker and darker brown with each passing minute.

“I’ll change everything.” I narrowed my eyes and swung my gaze up to him. “I’ll rebuild the whole bratva the way I want it. Women in power, men underneath us, and every single one of them will have to answer to me if they step out of line.”

He bowed his head and held his hair in his hands. This was the moment he’d find a way to kill me. I thought he realized what I was saying, that I wouldn’t be told what to do by anyone if I was in power, not even him. Instead of pulling a weapon to end my life, he got up and hobbled over to me with open arms. I stood and he pulled me in for a hug. I didn’t embrace him back but stood stiffly there, listening to his words. “Your mother’s heart was too big, Katalina, but yours is cold. Powerful. And strong. The blood on your hands is proof. You have your inheritance at your disposal now, huh? Let’s see your reign. I bet it will be like mine.”

I rubbed my palms against my jeans, instinctually trying to get rid of the evidence. I took a deep breath, though, reminding myself that I wanted this. It just had to be my way. “I’m not like anyone. I’m me.”

“You’re a queen, willing to do what it takes for family, for blood, for your bratva. You spill to protect. The bratva will bend to you, and you’ll rule better than you ever would have on the arm of another.”

“Is this bratva strong enough to stand without you, Ivan?” I wondered.

“Why not? You’re my granddaughter. You’ve made ties with our enemy. That’s beneficial, isn’t it?” He smiled and it was one with sick satisfaction.

Didn’t he know that Mario had built his family like an organized military structure that led the world? He was the general, he had his officers, his sergeants, and a thought out military that wanted power. They didn’t need us. “The Armanellis won’t bend for anyone.”

“But they already have, haven’t they? They gave in to you. They’ll take down Mario too.” He sat, thinking over his next idea. “You and Bastian could create a new city, a new empire. Yes, I’ll help with it. I’ll teach you what I know, and I’ll watch you build until I can’t anymore. This bloodline is made for the greatness we’ll construct.”

I shook my head and backed away from him. “You just said he helped kill my mother?”

Ivan rolled his eyes like I was naive. “Way of the world, Katalina. He was quicker to get his power because of it. If you want to be ruthless, you need to let go of revenge. We focus on what we want.”

“What’s that?”

“Power to change things, access to money, to deals. When you have that, you can do anything.” His voice sounded far away, like he was dreaming of what could be.

He’d never reached that status. The bratva was too scattered and he’d never controlled it like he should have. I bit my lip. “I don’t trust you. And your dementia—”

“Will take hold soon enough. And even still, you came here today. You took your uncle’s life today.”

“That was self-defense.” I pointed out.

“That was you seizing power, and you know it. You stepped out onto that street and waited for his SUV to pull up because you wanted something more. This is the more you wanted. Take it. Be greedy. Be bold. Be brave. You’re capable of greatness.”

I tripped on the Persian carpet and then righted myself immediately. “I don’t know how to run a bratva. I don’t know . . . I only know how to be bait.” I sighed and closed my eyes. The burning in them and in my throat was a clear indicator that tears would spill over soon. I tried to pull back the emotions, closed my mouth to hold them in. “I’m not ready.”

“I’m going to teach you, Katalina. What’s another member going to do, huh? You want to leave your legacy to someone else? Make your claim on the throne now. Tell me you want this so that we can bring the bratva back to life. You and the Armanellis can rule together.”

I shook my head slowly, but my mind raced as fast as it could to put the pieces together. I’d been used for too long, and I’d wanted power for even longer.

My hand was on the gold knob of the front door, but it fell to my side. I stared at my grandfather, his silver-gray hair an indication of the stress over the years. I took in his blue china in the dining room and the grandfather clock in the corner. He was living a beautiful life retired from the bratva. But when I glanced down, Dimitri’s dead body was a reminder of what it would really be.

“I’m not like any of you,” I said.

“Ah, so my son’s words got to you. You think you’re a mutt and a mutt can’t rule?”

“No. I think a mutt will rule better.” I paused. “I know it. Because I’ve been a part of it all and yet not included in any of it.”

Ivan tilted his head at me, trying to understand. It’d take the world a while to catch up, but I wouldn’t be waiting.

“The throne is mine.”