Page 100 of Cinderella and the Daddy
"Slow down," Luka says, ruffling Leo's hair. "One question at a time."
We spend the next hour fielding his endless stream of questions, watching his excitement bubble over with each new detail. He's already planning to teach the baby to play soccer and build Lego spaceships. The pure joy on his face makes my heart feel like it might burst.
That evening, after putting a very excited Leo to bed, I go downstairs to make myself a snack. Luka disappeared into his office an hour ago. He’ll tell me if I need to know. I don’t ask questions. I trust him. He’s doing all he can to keep us safe.
Luka finds me in the kitchen. I take one look at his expression and my stomach drops.
“What is it?”
"We found Charles," he says.
I drop the knife I was using to slice an apple. My hands are suddenly unsteady.
"Where?" I ask quietly.
"Safe house in Queens. He's been moving around since the warehouse." Luka's voice is carefully neutral, but I can read the tension in his shoulders. "He reached out through intermediaries. Wants to make a deal."
Mixed emotions churn in my chest like a storm. Relief that he's alive wars with anger over his disappearance—love tangled up with betrayal—until I can't separate one feeling from another.
“A deal?” I ask.
“He’s being hunted by two different groups, Cindy. He will die. It’s my hand or Kozlov’s. He’s coming to me because he wants me to save him.”
I slowly nod.
I owe Charles nothing. Not really. But he did take care of me in his own twisted way when I had no one. He is the only father figure I’ve ever had. He was a terrible father, but there were moments.
I have so many questions that only he can answer.
"I want to see him," I say.
Luka's immediate response is written all over his face.Hell no.But I press on before he can voice it.
"He's still my father, Luka. Whatever he's done, whatever mistakes he's made—he lost Anna and Drew. He's lost everything."
"He made his choices," Luka says. His tone is harsh. Angry. "Choices that put you in danger."
"I know." I step closer, placing my hand on his chest. "But I need to hear it from him. I need to understand why."
Something in my voice must convince him, because after a long moment, he nods. "I'll arrange it. But it happens on my terms, in a place of my choosing. And I stay with you."
"Of course."
An hour later, we’re on our way.
The warehouse Luka chooses is neutral territory—not his, not affiliated with any particular organization, just four walls and concrete floors where business can be conducted without interruption. Charles sits at a metal table in the center of the space, flanked by two of Luka's men.
The man waiting for me is a stranger. The person hunched over the table looks nothing like the man I wanted so desperately to love me like I was his daughter.
His face is gaunt and lined with exhaustion. His clothes hang loose on a frame that's lost too much weight too quickly. When he looks up and sees me, his eyes fill with tears.
"Cindy," he breathes, half-rising from his chair before thinking better of it. "You look... You look beautiful, sweetheart."
I want to run to him, to throw myself into his arms like I'm twelve years old again and he's rescuing me from a shitty foster home. Instead, I take the chair across from him, hyperaware of Luka's presence beside me like a protective shield.
"Charles." There’s a lump in my throat. Luka warned me, on the way over, that there was a very good chance this meeting would end with Charles dead.
I had to accept it.
