Page 34 of Toxic Temptation
I set the photo down carefully. “Following in Daddy’s footsteps, I see.”
“Being a judge isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” His tone turns pointed. “Especially when people break into your house at midnight.”
“Break in? That’s harsh, Francis. I thought we were friends.”
He glances at his liquor cart mournfully. “This conversation requires whiskey, doesn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t say no.”
Francis hauls himself up with visible effort. The man’s put on at least thirty pounds since I last saw him, and his limp is getting worse. He pours two glasses and hands me one, his expression grim.
“What do you want, Kovan?”
“I want custody of my nephew. I need you to make it happen.”
Francis’s face falls. “It’s not that simple.”
“You’re a superior court judge. This is exactly the kind of thing you can influence.”
“You’re giving me more power than I actually have.” He stares into his whiskey like there’s an escape hatch in there. “I can sway decisions, sure. Influence outcomes. But completely circumvent the legal system for one man’s personal agenda? No. That’s not how this works.”
“Luka has a living parent?—”
“Exactly.” Francis cuts me off. “His mother. Who’s remarried, as I understand it.”
My jaw tightens. “To Ihor Makhov. My father’s former second-in-command.”
“I take it you don’t approve of her choice.”
“Ihor’s loyalty died with my father. He spent years undermining my brother’s leadership, and now, he’s doing the same to mine. He’s using Luka as leverage against me.”
Francis leans forward slightly. “You want the boy away from him.”
“I want him safe,” I snarl. Then I smooth away my anger. “Luka’s eight years old. He’s sensitive. He needs attention, stability. His mother can barely be bothered to remember he exists, and Ihor sees him as nothing more than a tool.”
Francis’s jowls quiver as he shakes his head sadly. Almost pitying me, if I didn’t know better. “If it’s truly a matter of safety, there might be options. But you’d need concrete proof that the boy is in danger with his current guardians. Without that, parental rights won’t be terminated.”
I nod, my mind already racing through possibilities. “And if I can prove it?”
“Even then, if his mother or stepfather contest your claims, you’re looking at a long legal battle. Custody cases can drag on for years.”
“Luka doesn’t have years.” I clench my teeth tightly. “A week ago, I had to rush him to the hospital because someone fed him pineapple. He’s deathly allergic.”
Francis straightens. “Where were his parents?”
“Cancun. Left him with staff who clearly weren’t briefed on his medical needs.”
“Now, that’s something we can work with. Negligence. Child endangerment. There’s a case there.” Francis pauses, considering. “But it still won’t be easy.”
“Doesn’t Luka get a say in any of this?”
“He’s eight years old, Kovan. He’s lived with his mother his entire life. Courts don’t typically remove children from their primary caregiver to place them with a bachelor uncle. Especially not one with a lengthy rap sh?—”
“Watch what you say to me, Francis.”
He shrinks back instinctively. “Listen to me, Kovan. Separating a child from their natural parent requires extraordinary circumstances. More likely, they’d send in Social Services to evaluate the home environment first.”
“They’ll be fooled. Yana can put on whatever show she needs to. And what the hell does me being single have to do with anything?”
