Page 76 of Daddy's Reluctant Queen

He’s leaning on his arms, putting all his weight forward as the counter is the only thing keeping his head from colliding with the wall.

“Ignat?”

He starts a little and glances at me over his shoulder. Both his eyes are swollen and puffy, but not so much that he can’t see out of them. “Morning,” he croaks.

I walk over to him and realize that he’s standing in front of the coffee maker while it brews the coffee. The container is open and there’s coffee grounds all over the counter. He must have had a hell of a time making this happen in his condition. I put a hand on his shoulder and he flinches slightly.

“You shouldn’t be out of bed,” I say to him. “Come on, at least sit down. Let me do this.”

He gives me a slight glance, but he listens, slowly standing on unsteady feet. I take his hand and lead him to one of the chairs by the kitchen table and ease him down to sitting.

“I know better than this,” he says with a little snicker. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve told Titus to rest when he needs to heal. You know, I’ve known him since he was a boy. When we were both boys, really. I’m only about three years older than him, so…when I was a youngboevik, he was a six, doing everything he could to get our Pakhan’s attention.”

I listen to him as I sweep the coffee grounds into the sink and get cups for us out of the cabinets. At least he’s talking, albeit a little weakly. I can hear him laboring to breathe at the end of every sentence.

“Most people have the hardest time taking their own advice,” I say. “I know I do.”

“Isn’t that the truth?” He goes silent. Well, not silent. His breathing takes up the space between us.

“So, you and Titus,” he says as I pour coffee into the cups. “You two have become quite close.”

“You want cream in yours?” I ask him, reaching for the powdered creamer in the cabinet.

“No. I take my coffee black. Thank you.”

I put the creamer in my coffee and take a moment to decide how I’m going to answer him. “Haven’t you heard?” I say as I stir the creamer, watching the powder melt in the steaming brown liquid. “I’m a prisoner of war.”

“A blind man could see that you’ve become more than that. You’re not fooling anyone.”

I sigh and bring the coffee over to him. I set the cup down in front of him and take a seat in the chair next to him. “And a tactical man might see that it benefits me to get close to my captor rather than fight him.”

He tilts his head. His normally well-put-together short haircut is ruffled terribly around the large bandage on the side of hishead. “Touche’,” he says and takes a sip from his cup. “Although, I don’t know if it’s all that wise a plan to admit that to Titus’ssovietnik.”

He’s got me there. I look down at my cup and take a sip from it. It’s too bitter. He must have dumped half the container in the coffee maker. I should have put more cream in it.

“Speaking of plans,” I say in an effort to change the subject, “how goes the search?”

“You think I would tell you?” He smiles at me slyly. “Hmm. Well, I have always said that a pretty woman would one day be my undoing.”

That makes me smile. He’s not as stiff as he comes off to be, I guess.

“So far,” he says, “Cyrus and Cyril have managed to avoid their normal haunts, which makes me think that they’ve chosen someplace that’s less conspicuous. If I had to guess, I’d say a motel. Someplace on the outskirts of the city where they’d have to pay cash. Or perhaps one of the homes or families of the ones who’ve chosen to turn their backs on this Bratva.”

I nod slowly. That sounds about right. It’s exactly what I would do—what I did do, in fact.

“Wherever they are,” he goes on, “I doubt the plan is to stay in hiding forever. They want something from Titus. They’re going to use Luka as a means to collect it from him.”

Holding a little boy hostage is deranged, in my opinion. Especially when the only reason you’re doing it is so that you can be in charge. “They’re pretty sick to do this,” I say. “Luka’s justa kid. He doesn’t even know what his father is. He shouldn’t be involved.”

“You should know better than anyone how impossible that is, Sofia Aristov.”

My face flushes.Ouch.“I guess I just think that Titus should have clued him in on his situation, that’s all. Maybe start to train him how to defend himself… I don’t know.” I let that thought fall. He’s only seven. How much fighting could he ever do against two grown men?

“For all you know, he was probably going to end up there eventually.” He says it with a sage smile. “Titus loves his son. And he is well aware that the road he was on was going to have to change eventually.”

“Keeping him locked away wasn’t doing him any favors.”

“Agreed. I think that Titus has been stuck for quite some time. The relationship he had with Luka’s mother… I think it changed something in him. For the first time, he had someone to care for other than himself. And when she was killed…”