Angel and the Assassin 3: Sins of the Father

myself.”
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    On impulse, and anxious to know after the Romodanovsky incident, Kael asked,
    “Mum? Who’s my father?”
    “Not now,” she said desperately. “Just don’t ask me that.”
    “Sorry.” Kael kissed her and watched her go before joining Angel in the kitchen.
    “Daddy, I’m making quiche. I knew Sharon would have frozen pie shells in the
    freezer. I saw her using one for the mince pie at Christmas.”
    Kael pulled Angel into his arms and hugged him tight. “Yes, she always used
    frozen because she was so busy when I was a kid.”
    He held his boy at arm’s length. “Angel, are you scared of me?”
    Wide-eyed, the boy looked up at him. “Sometimes.”
    “I don’t mean to be scary.”
    “I know, Daddy. It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”
    “I don’t want you to be scared of me. I love you. You mean everything to me.
    When I first took you home, I wanted you to be scared of me because I thought it was
    the only way to make you obey me, and you were in danger. But I don’t want you to be
    scared of me now.”
    “It must be hard for you, Daddy. You were on your own for so long, and now you
    have me in your life all the time. I know you feel responsible for me. You used to get
    really upset when I left things lying around or made a mess or made too much noise,
    but I don’t do really annoying shit anymore, do I?”
    Having to climb over a toilet wall to rescue you from being raped was fairly annoying .
    “No, of course not, sweetheart.”
    With an apologetic look on his lovely face, Angel said, “It’s not like I’m even a real
    grown-up yet. I still have to go to school. I don’t earn any money. I must cost you a
    fortune. I know my school is really expensive. And what about Cambridge? I bet you
    got a scholarship, didn’t you?”
    “Yes, I did.”
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    “That’s because you’re a genius. I’ll never get a scholarship. It’s going to be so
    expensive.”
    “Don’t worry. I can afford it.”
    “Sometimes you must feel like you adopted a kid instead of getting a boyfriend.”
    “No, of course I don’t.” At times that was exactly how he felt. “Mum thinks I’m
    too hard on you. Do you think I am?”
    “I always wanted a strict daddy. You’re my master. I want you to be in charge. I
    want you to make me the best boy I can be. But you could let up a little sometimes,”
    Angel said.
    “You’re already the best boy in the world.”
    Sharon entered the kitchen smiling, though her eyes were rimmed with red and
    her face looked strained. She’d been crying. “Something smells good.” She looked
    through the glass door of the oven. “I love quiche. How did you know, Angel?”
    Smiling as he hugged her, Angel said, “It was a guess.”
    Watching them, Kael wondered if he would ever be as good as they were—or
    even if he wanted to be.
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    Chapter Twelve
    Arkadiy Romodanovsky.
    Kael typed the name into Google and hit Enter. He had waited until Angel left for
    college, not wanting the boy looking over his shoulder and questioning him, as he often
    did when Kael used the computer. What are you doing, Daddy? Why do you want to know
    that? Who is that in the picture ? His boy was infinitely interested in everything he did.
    Sometimes he wondered if he would ever get used to living with Angel, though he
    could not imagine ever again living without him. An involuntary smile crossed his face
    as he remembered Angel kissing him good-bye at the lift that morning.
    “Don’t forget, Daddy, Italian week means Italian food. I’m going to cook” —he’d paused
    for effect— “cannelloni!”
    Every week Kael made Angel speak another language for a couple of hours in the
    evenings to reinforce what he was teaching him. French one week, Italian the next,
    German the next, and then Russian. He had kept it at four, deciding it was enough. As
    the lift doors closed, Angel had given him an exaggerated wink with his mouth wide
    open before wiggling his hips and saying, “Italian food and Latin loooove.”
    Nobody made him smile like Angel. Nobody had made him smile at all before
    Angel.
    Wikipedia was the first hit. The entry was short but typical. Arkadiy Alexsandr
    Viktor Romodanovsky, Russian minister of justice. Born April 20, 1948, in Switzerland.
    Wife Maria, five sons. After that came a list of his career accomplishments. There was
    no picture.
    Going back to