Page 9 of Daddy's Reluctant Queen

“Little Sofie,” he says in his thick Italian accent. He walks up to me and takes my shoulders, kissing me on each cheek. “You are a sight for sore eyes.” He turns to Adam and pats him on the shoulders. “Both of you. News of what happened is all over the city. I must tell you, I thought the worst.”

“We’re fine. Well, fine-ish,” I tell him. “Do I need to ask you for help?”

“Never,” he says. “Anything for Marius. God rest his soul. Whatever you need, I can provide.”

I nod and a wash of relief comes over me. I never thought I’d be so happy to see a friendly face.

“If you need a place to stay,” he says, “I have a small room upstairs where the two of you can hide out until you figure outwhat you’re going to do next or where you plan to go. Do you have money?”

“Yes, money we have.”

“I wouldn’t use anything but cash for a while if you can help it. These Bratva types can be crafty and you don’t want to be tracked.” He leads us back to the front desk. “If you’re not armed, I can loan you some decent weapons.”

“I’m afraid we’re going to need something a little above decent,” I say to him. “We’ve already got a plan of action, Stasio.”

He looks at me and his bushy black eyebrows lift up. “Oh?” Then he frowns. “Oh, Sofia. You’re not going to do what I think you’re going to do?”

“We don’t have a choice. They wiped out my family, everyone. They’ll kill us too if we don’t stop them.”

He leans against the desk and suddenly, he looks even older than he usually does. “Dio mio,” he mutters. “You’re going to get yourselves killed. These men, they live and breathe blood. And their numbers?—”

“Let us worry about that. All we need are weapons and to know who and where they are. We know they’re Bratva, but that’s it. Can you give us any other information? I know you’ve heard something about them by now.”

His lips tighten into a thin line and for a few seconds, I don’t think he’s going to tell me anything. He says, “There is no way I can convince you not to do this? None at all?”

“You can’t hide us forever,” I say with a shrug. “It’s going to come to this no matter what we do. And besides all that, we’re owedour vengeance. At least if we attack them first, we might get the jump on them.”

He nods slowly. “Come with me, then.”

He turns and walks through the door leading to the range. We follow him and we walk down the long hallway just before the range. The window in the wall shows us six or seven empty stalls and a cement wall full of holes down on the other end.

“The men you are seeking,” he says as we come to a metal door on the other side of the hall, “are from a Bratva called theArkhangelskayaor Archangels on the street.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a ring of keys, finding one and using it to open the door.

“If you are going to go against them,” he says as he turns on the light, “You’ll need serious firepower.”

The light flickers on and we’re in a room with dozens of rifles on the wall. Brand new M-16s, AR-475s, and 500s… Things I’ve only seen in magazines and online.

“I wish I could offer you more bodies,” he says. “The two of you against the Archangels…”

“Just show me to the sniper rifles,” I tell him.

4

TITUS

“You’re trouble, Mr. Malkin. Solid Gold Trouble.”

The memory of her saying that to me always makes me smile. In this moment, I can almost hear Angela’s slight Southern drawl as she looks me up and down that first night. I had found myself in a bar, who knows why. All I remember is that I walked in through the door and the first thing I saw was her sitting at the bar. Long golden curls down her back, the split in her dress showing off her long legs… For whatever reason, she turned away from her date and looked my way. The light caught the blue in her eyes and it was like I had been knocked over on my ass.

My time with Angela was the most complicated and perfect relationship I’ve ever had. She was far too headstrong and a nightmare when she was angry. She was also the most loving and caring woman I’ve ever experienced. She came into my life with the intensity of a storm and the calm of its eye. That first night I laid eyes on her, I didn’t stand a chance.

A woman like that can always spot trouble from a hundred yards. Even in my expensive suit, flashing expensive jewelry, she spotted it right off. With a single glance over her shoulder, I was made from the jump. To this day, I’ve never been able to figure out how she knew it before I had a chance to speak to her. Maybe it was how I looked. My hair was shorter then, with considerably less gray.

That’s what it was. That night had been my first full night out from my last stretch in prison. My hair was cut really short, almost a buzz cut. The first thing I’d done when I got behind bars a couple of years prior was get all my hair cut down to hardly nothing. Good-looking men with long hair typically end up in the hole for fighting or as a hole for a meaner prisoner, and I just wanted to do my time and get out. By the time I was out, I was looking forward to growing it again.

I was also looking forward to sleeping in a soft, comfortable bed. What I didn’t know was that it would be the first of many nights where insomnia would claim my evenings… so that night, I found myself in a bar. And that was where my life changed forever.

At the moment that this memory is floating around in my mind, I’m standing in the shade of the tree where she’s now taking her eternal rest. It’s been six years to the day since she died. Every time I’ve come here to replace the flowers on her grave, I always get a little sadder than the time before. The loneliness I feel without her just seems to be getting worse and worse.