Page 286 of Vexatious Queen

Christov shoved Vicky away. She tripped and grabbed the wall to stay upright.

“What the fuck is your problem, jerk face?”

The room swam as I lifted my head. Vicky pushed her hair out of her face, and her eyes went wide, but then hardened into her typical glacial stare.

“Close the door, Patricia,” Christov ordered.

Patricia came back in and walked around me to stand by the window.

I was severely outnumbered and was sure there were guards stationed outside, even if I made it out of the room. A thread of panic took root, but I squashed it. This was not the time.

Vicky rubbed at her bare arms and shivered.

“Why is Ren here? And what is wrong with her? She looks…out of it. And why is she taped to a chair?”

No one spoke, and the silence stretched.

“Uh…hello? Can one of you tell me what is going on? It feels like we’re all auditioning for some creepy horror movie.”

Christov pulled a gun. Vicky stepped back, but he grabbed her arm. She looked like an animal caught in a trap.

“Ow, you’re hurting me. Let go.”

“Open your hand,” he ordered.

“No. What the fuck is happening?” She looked at her mother. “Mama? What is all this?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Christov yanked her closer. “This is the day you get to take your revenge.”

“What?” Vicky looked genuinely confused.

It was obvious that she wasn’t in on whatever they had planned. It didn’t mean she wouldn’t decide this was a great time to get rid of me, but it also meant there was hope.

“Just do what he says,” Patricia said, standing off to the side, hands folded like she was here to watch an execution.

Christov squeezed Vicky’s arm tighter, his fingers leaving imprints on her skin.

“What the fuck is your problem?” She growled at Christov, and I would’ve stood up and cheered.

“Take the gun,” he ordered.

“No.”

Christov’s nostrils flared, and I cried out a muffled warning, but it did no good. He backhanded Vicky across the face, gun still clutched in his hand. She would’ve fallen over if he hadn’t still been holding onto her arm.

“Ah!” Vicky cried out and then touched her face where she’d been struck. Anger rose and burned throughout my body, pushing aside the lightheaded sensation from the drugs.

“Fu..k..eer,” I snarled, it coming out muffled.

“Don’t you dare hit my daughter,” Patricia shrieked, moving closer, but stopped when he pointed the gun at her.

“What is wrong with you, you lunatic,” Vicky asked, glaring at Christov.

She pulled on her arm, but he wouldn’t release her.

“Let go of me.”

“I’m only going to tell you one more time. Take the gun, or I shoot your mother in the head,” Christov growled.