Page 80 of Daddy's Reluctant Queen

“This isn’t about your skillset or whether or not I think you belong on the battlefield. I’m to meet with them alone. If either of them sees you with me, it’s all over.”

“They won’t see me,” she says, taking a step toward me. “Not if I’ve got them in my sights.”

That stops me cold. “What do you mean by that?”

“Give me a rifle and I’ll show you.”

I almost laugh. I might if I had the time or the inclination. “So, you’re a sniper now?”

“I’m damned good at it, too. Where are you meeting with them?”

“Sofia—”

“So I know where to be where they won’t see me. Trust me, Titus. All I need is a clear shot at them. I can take them out before they even know what’s happened.”

I shake my head. She’s insane. Or she’s going insane. “I really don’t have time for this.”

“No, you don’t. Look, if you go without any backup, they will, one hundred percent, kill you. Your life is the prize here. Nothing else matters. You’re serving yourself up to them like a lamb to slaughter. You cannot go alone.”

She’s right. I know she’s right down to my bones. I knew it when I was on the phone with Cyrus. “He is my son,” I tell her. “I would gladly give my life for him.”

“I know,” she says softly. “And all I’m saying is that you don’t have to. Let me do what I can to help you. Please.”

I’ve found that there are only three words that Sofia has ever spoken that’ve ever made me change my path, and she just said the third one.Please. Looking at me with those eyes the color of precious jewels, I find it impossible to resist her.

“Come on,” I tell her. I sidestep her and walk the rest of the way to my office with her right behind me.

In my office, I walk over to one of my bookshelves and press a button, hidden on the inside of the middle shelf. It swings around revealing a wall of my guns. ARs of at least three varieties, handguns, and rifles, including one sniper rifle sitting in its slot at the very top of the rack.

I turn to her and she’s standing behind me, mouth open in awe. “Oh, my God.”

“You know your guns?” I say. “Tell me about the sniper rifle.”

She looks at me cautiously. “What do you mean?”

“Pick it out and tell me about it.”

She rolls her eyes and walks past me to the wall, then stops. “It’s too high up,” she says.

I nod toward the chair next to the shelf. “Be creative.”

She grabs the chair and places it on the side of the wall, then climbs on top of it. With ease, she lifts the sniper rifle from its place, cradling it under one arm, pointing it down to the floor as she steps off the chair.

“This is a Steyr HS .50 M1.” She lifts it up to her face, looking down the scope. “It’s a long range sniper with a picatinny rail system and a five-magazine capacity.” She looks over the rifle, turning it one way, then the other. “It’s a good rifle. Personally, I prefer an SVD, but I can shoot with this just fine.”

I cross my arms to hide exactly how shocked she’s left me. Is there no limit to how much she knows about battle?

“Guess your father trained you well,” I say.

“He opened the door,” she says, taking another look down the lens and bringing it up toward the wall. “I just walked through it.”

I’m amazed by her and a little taken aback. Had I known about her years ago, I might’ve acted against her father sooner. In fact, there’s no way in hell I’d have let her live. She’s dangerous in a way that I’d have never seen coming.

And some would say that she still is. Ignat and probably everyone else in the Bratva would tell me that trusting her not to exact the revenge that I have owed her this whole time is foolish and definitely a sign that I have grown too weak to lead.

But looking at her now and knowing that she could have taken my life a million times over at this point and hasn’t…

Maybe trusting her with my life is the greatest test of my strength.