Page 219 of Vexatious Queen

“Join me.”

I almost told her to shove it, but that wouldn’t get me what I wanted.

“I don’t understand any of this,” I said, taking the chair across from her. “My entire life has been one giant lie. You left me all alone to figure it out myself. You left Neil, the man I thought was my father, vulnerable and exposed, and he ended up dead. You were off doing God knows what, while I suffered from nightmares and waded through guilt. Why did she save me? Why did I go into that closet? Could I have done something to save you? The entire time, you were⁠—”

“I was finishing what was started years ago. It was something I had to do, and unfortunately, I needed the world to believe that I was dead to keep you safe, and my enemies unaware and off balance.”

“What does any of that mean?”

She sighed and leaned back, looking regal in the large beige and gold wingback chair. She resembled a queen on a throne, while I was the annoying princess asking too many questions.

“When we went on the run, the initial plan was to go to your father. We would live in Italy with him and be protected by the Genovese name.”

“Yes, I’m aware. Dad filled me in on what happened,” I said.

“Well, then you know that if I went to your father after I shot Christov, there would’ve been a war. One that could last for generations. I ran and hid us, instead. Right or wrong, I wanted you to grow up like any other kid. Not surrounded by guards with guns, enemies hiding around every corner, always looking over your shoulder, and never knowing if someone was really a friend. And you did.”

She smiled, and her whole face transformed into the woman I remembered. Warm, compassionate, and carefree.

“I understand why you ran then. What I don’t understand is why you faked your death. If you wanted me act like you were, I could’ve done that. You could’ve explained everything to me.”

Her smile faded.

“No, I couldn’t. I couldn’t take the chance that you’d confide in the wrong person, or that our lives hinged on your acting skills. I couldn’t do that to you.”

“No, you just gave me PTSD instead.”

“Ren, I raised you to be a free thinker, able to make your own choices. So, tell me. If I had shared everything about my life and future plans with you and then dropped you off at Wayward with instructions to pretend I was dead, what would you have done? Would you want that knowledge on your shoulders? For my life to literally be in your hands?”

Leaning back, I crossed my arms and stayed quiet. I hated that her reasoning made sense.

“It might have worked out, but it would have been no less traumatic. I never wanted you to carry that kind of responsibility. Wayward was the best and safest place for you. You could finish school without worrying about money, and most of all, you were protected by the Curators. I couldn’t have asked for anything more while I was…away.”

I stood and paced, unable to sit still.

“None of this explains why. Why, then? What changed?”

Something dark passed behind her eyes, and then it was gone.

“Like I already said, there is nothing I can say that will make any of this better. But know that I have spent the last year dismantling families and businesses that supported my father and Christov.”

My eyebrows shot up before I could hide my surprise.

“Yes, I knew he was alive. I became aware of that about three months before I faked my death, but I assumed he was still in Russia. I was wrong.”

My mind was blown and not in a good way. Logic told me she needed to be strategic, but my heart hurt like she’d just stabbed me.

“So, Vadin, your father, is here because…”

“I killed everyone who supported him and took every last cent he had to fund my vendetta against him, Christov, and Lawrence. He is here because he knows that his time is up. His home is burned to ash, like he burned the world around me. The funds he managed to take with him when he ran are low. He is either looking for protection or your trust fund.”

“You tracked him here, and your plan was to, what? Waltz in, say surprise, and then shoot him in the head, with no regard for anyone else.”

“Everything I’ve done is because I love you. These men will never stop coming after us. This is all to protect you, and sometimes the wrong thing must be done for the right reason,” Mum said.

“Bullshit.”

Fuming, I marched across the room.