Page 32 of Daddy's Reluctant Queen

Hmm. Looks like I have a partner in crime. “Need some help?”

He nods. “Yes, please.”

I creep down the stairs and join him in the living room. “Do you know how many people are usually in the kitchen?”

He shakes his head. “It used to be just Natalie, but she’s gone now. I don’t know who’s in there now.”

Natalie… Oh. The housekeeper. “Okay,” I say. “Where do you think they keep the candy?”

“Natalie used to keep it in a jar in a cabinet next to the sink. It’s high, though. I usually have to climb on the counter to get to it.”

“Probably not too high for me,” I say with a little commiserating smirk. “Stay right here and be my lookout. You see anybody coming down that hall, knock on the floor twice. Okay?”

He nods and sticks his chin up. “Yes, ma’am.”

I ruffle his hair, then walk quietly around the stairs to the hall leading to the kitchen.

The hallway just off the stairs leads straight to the kitchen. I get to the doorway and stand off to the side the moment I hear talking. Two people speaking in Russian amid the heavy smell of coffee.

“I think I’m going to go have my coffee outside. It’s beautiful today,” one of them says. “Are you coming?”

I cross my fingers as I wait for his response. It takes him a few moments, but he finally answers, “I suppose. Fresh air never killed anyone.”

I listen as the movement changes, footsteps across the linoleum, then across the marble of the dining room. The sliding sound of the door leading outside, opening and then closing.

I don’t know how much time I have, but it’s gotta be enough.

I slip into the kitchen. It’s remarkably small considering the size of this house. A door leading to a mudroom, the doorway leading to the dining room to my right, stove, counter, cabinets. Cabinets. I go for the one next to the sink as Luka instructed. Sure enough, there’s several different bags of candies next to a jar full of an assortment of different candies. I open the jar and grab a bag of gummy worms and close it up. Then as I pass by the counter, I spot the knife block and grab the largest one from there.

Okay. So. Better make tracks. I shove the knife in my pants and cover it with my tank top, praying that it doesn’t slip out or cut me as I move, then I return to the stairs. As soon as I see Luka, I toss him the bag of candy. He catches it, beaming up at me.

“Come on,” I say. “Let’s go to my room and celebrate.”

The tripup to my room with the knife in my pants suffered me a small cut on the side of my leg. It’s barely perceptible and Ibarely felt it when it happened. Doesn’t even need a Band-Aid. I’m sure that Titus won’t even notice it tonight.

This morning was a nice break from my reality. Luka and I watched his favorite show while eating the candy and talking. That poor kid has been here for as long as he can remember and he doesn’t know anything other than his father.

But he loves him. He loves him in that way that little kids love their parents. Like religious folk love God or something like it. I don’t think Titus could ever do wrong in his son’s eyes.

He’s cute. Way cuter than I expected a man like Titus to produce.

But eventually, Luka’s show ended and we heard the door open and close downstairs. He left my room and tiptoed back to his own and I was alone again.

I’m thinking about him hours later as I get dressed. He’s a good kid. Way too good to be the son of a Pakhan. I kind of wonder if they didn’t switch babies at the hospital and somebody else has Titus’s demon spawn.

I’m looking at myself in the mirror. Tonight’s dress is black, just an inch above the knee, mid sleeves with a silver belt. It’s sexy—all of these dresses are pretty sexy, but not too much. I need him vulnerable tonight, not angry.

My hair is braided into a single braid, just like he likes. When he first asked, I was puzzled. Now I know it’s because he likes to pull on it, make me feel like he’s actually riding me when he’s doing me from behind. I swing it back and forth and smile to myself, thinking about him yanking it while he comes.

I am really going to miss the sex when he’s dead. It’s a fucking shame that he’s gotta die.

I walk past my bed, where the knife is hidden under the mattress. I think I’ll wait until after he comes to stick it in his heart. As a thank you for not killing me, I guess. I won’t be as cruel as I imagine he expects me to be.

I slip on my little black pumps that he likes as the door unlocks. Titus walks in and immediately looks me up and down. I stand to let him soak it all in.

“Very nice,” he says with a little smile. Something in that smile of approval always warms something in me.

“Thank you, Sir.”