Page 12 of Daddy's Reluctant Queen

I think back to the moment after I killed Marius, looking over my shoulder at Cyril getting his clock cleaned by that sexy little thing in a red silk dress. A woman with knowledge of hand-to-hand like that would probably know her way around a weapon as well.

She, at least, could give us one hell of a fight. She might even take some of my men out.

Then again, she’s only one person. And this might be the opportunity I need.

“Do nothing,” I tell Ignat. He raises his eyebrows with surprise. “Is that a problem?”

“No, of course not. It’s just… Titus, I just told you about a credible threat against your life. Are you certain the prudent thing wouldn’t be to snuff them out before they get settled? Hit them when they aren’t expecting us?”

“They don’t know we know their plans, Ignat. No matter what they do, they will not be expecting us.”

“So, then, what do you plan to do when they show up at your gate?”

I smile and offer a chuckle his way. “When you’re hunting, isn’t it always better when the prey walks right into your lap?” He returns my smile, finally understanding. “Let them come. When they do, we’ll surround and take them. No sense stretching our resources when we know they’ll be walking right to our front door soon enough.”

“I see. All right. I will send word down the line to prepare for their arrival.”

“Good.” He starts to leave, but I stop him. “By the way, prepare two rooms for them at the inn for me. I want the pleasure of doing the final deed myself.”

“Yes, sir.” He gives a little bow of respect, then leaves me to my ruminations.

I look down at Angela’s grave. I can almost feel her disapproval.

“Trust me, my dear,” I tell her. “This is the only way.” I kiss my hand and place it on the cold headstone. “I’ll see you soon.”

And with that, I leave the graveyard. In the end, when it’s all done, her soul will rest… and so will mine.

5

SOFIA

If there is anything good about being the target of Bratva instead of the Feds, it’s probably the fact that our funds haven’t been frozen. Both Adam and I have had trust funds since we were kids, and while that’s more than enough to sustain us, I can’t wait until all this is over so we can hatch a plan to access Father’s accounts and get to starting our lives again.

I’ve been trying not to think too hard about that. I need to focus on what’s right in front of me. And at this very moment, it’s the collection of guns on my bed.

A sniper rifle, two handguns, an AR-500, and boxes and boxes of bullets. It doesn’t seem like enough, but given that it’ll be just the two of us, it’s more than we’ll need.

Adam’s standing at the edge of the bed, looking at our haul with his hands on his hips. He was silent the whole way back here and even as we brought all these guns into the hotel room. Now he just stands and stares, slowly shaking his head.

“I hope you have a plan,” he says.

“I do. I’m coming up with one,” I tell him. “First, we need to find out some more about our target.” I’m sitting cross-legged on the bed, my phone in my hand. “So, I’m going to do some research on the Arkhangelskaya’s Pakhan. The way Stasio was talking about them?—”

“He seemed pretty sure that the last thing we should do is try to attack them ourselves.” He sighs and crosses his arms. “I don’t know, Sof. Maybe he’s right. We should get some outside help.”

“I’m open to suggestions.” He stammers for a second but comes up empty. “Come on, Adam. You were in Papa’s inner circle. Who’s an ally to the Penzas?”

“It… it doesn’t really work like that, Sof. Bratva don’t really trust anybody. The people we reach out to could sell us out.”

“I know that. It doesn’t mean there’s nobody who doesn’t at least owe something to the Penzas or to our father. Think. There must be someone who can offer us aid.” I look down at my phone and open the browser. Stasio doesn’t know where home base is for the Archangels, but he does know the Pakhan’s name—Titus Malkin, which even for one of us is a hell of a name. It almost sounds like it should have an echo to it.

Adam throws up his hands, then pulls his phone out of his pocket and sits on the couch. “I think I might know the daughter of one of our allies. I think.”

“Any help we get is welcome.” I’m waiting for the page to load after I’ve typed in his name. I don’t know what to expect. I mean, most members of the criminal underground don’t just come up when you type in their names… unless they’ve been in some big trial that landed them in prison.

But I figure I’d be a fool if I didn’t at least try to look him up.

Another second goes by and the results load. The first article is dated close to fifteen years ago.