Page 64 of Queen of Ruin

The next morning, hunger draws us from our room and we follow the scent of food back to the kitchen we abandoned the night before. Not eating the pasta offered has left us both starving and after peeking around the door, I spot a woman with freckles and curly hair.

“Raven?” Valentina asks cautiously.

The woman jumps slightly and turns, then a wide smile spreads across her face. “Valentina! And… Diego, right?”

I nod. So this is Raven.

“Are you guys hungry? I can’t stop, but I’ve made bacon, tomatoes, potatoes, hash browns, and sausages. Well, I say me. Bradley did this and I’m here taking credit. I’m more of an instant noodle kind of girl.” She talks quickly, shoves a piece of bacon in her mouth, and then waves at us with a couple of fingers before fleeing the room.

Valentina and I exchange a glance. “Did we scare her?” I ask.

She shrugs. “She seemed… a little skittish when I met her yesterday, but she was gentle. In the same way Ivy was gentle.” Valentina frowns slightly. “Almost as if they’re trying to appease us.”

“Well, she put the bacon in her mouth so chances of it being poisoned are pretty slim, right?” Squeezing Valentina’s hand, I release it and walk to the trays laid out on the stove, where food continues to sizzle even though I can’t work out the source of heat.

“Dying from breakfast wouldn’t be a bad way to go,” Valentina chokes, then she winces slightly. “Ow.”

“Sore?” Concern immediately overrides my hunger in case I was too rough with her last night, but she reassures me with a squeeze of my arm.

“Painkillers are wearing off, I think.”

“Sit. I’ll grab plates.”

Two minutes later, we sit at the table with plates loaded with everything while Valentina pops some pills from the bottle the doctor gave her and chases them with two mouthfuls of orange juice.

“I dreamed something last night,” she says quietly. “Something weird.”

“What was it?” The sausage snaps between my teeth.

“I don’t know. Blurry things. I was cold. Really cold. And I think I was underground, but I don’t know how I knew that. Everything was so blurry and I think… I think it was damp.”

“A dream?” The alternative is much worse.

“I don’t know.” She toys with her bacon, but as soon as she starts eating, it’s as if the floodgates of hunger have opened. We’ve nearly cleared our plates by the time the door opens and the gigantic man, Bradley, walks inside.

“Good. You’ve eaten.” He remains as gruff as he was last night. “Valentina… It’s time we told you the truth about who you are.”

25

VALENTINA

Learning about my life through someone else’s eyes is… really weird.

After breakfast, Bradley brought Diego and me into a smaller room with a long wooden table, several high-back leather chairs, and a large screen where my name and face were displayed like some kind of presentation. The awkwardness of it all had me clutching at Diego under the table and I still haven’t let go.

Raven is here, and the man I presume to be Cassian, judging by Diego’s brief description last night. Both smile pleasantly but focus mostly on the screen where Bradley stands.

He really does take up so much space.

The picture of me on the screen is clearly me, and yet it’s like I’m looking at a completely different person compared to what I see in the mirror. She’s smiling, but there’s something cold about her that I can’t put my finger on.

“Your name, your full name, is Valentina Greko. You’re the only daughter of a deceased Italian Mafia king, but despite being his heir and primed to take over his role in the Estate and all attached businesses, you were only sixteen and much happier in the role of assassin. So, you handed over the family and all businesses to your father’s long-suffering right-hand man. A move that has kept the Greko family steady and powerful ever since.”

Diego suddenly chokes beside me as if something hit him in the throat, and everyone glances at him.

“Sorry.” He raises his other hand. “I’m sorry, it’s just… Mafia? Are you serious?” His gaze wanders around the table. “You’re talking about organized crime as casually as someone talks about cuts of steak. You can’t be serious?”

“This is New York,” Cassian replies. “Even those living under rocks know who controls the city.”