“Go, Stella,” she whispers into my ear. “Be his support now. He needs you.” She draws back only to kiss both my cheeks before turning to Annamaria. “Anna, help your sister with her bags.”
“Yes,Mammà,” Anna says at once, giving me a sad smile before rushing from the room.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion as I look between my parents and my beloved brother, Marcello—who set aside his distaste for Kirill just to make me happy.
“Don’t thank us, Stella,” my mother says, caressing my cheek. “Just go and be with your second family. And tell Mikhail that I have him and his baby in my prayers.”
As I rush upstairs, it finally dawns on me that even when the odds were stacked against her, Elena held on long enough to give birth. With her last remaining strength, she ensured there would be an heir to the Petrov throne.
Twenty grueling hours later, the wheels of our plane touch down on Russian tarmac.
Neither Lucky nor I manage to sleep a single moment during the flight. We both remain trapped inside our own thoughts, haunted by what awaits us at the Petrov compound.
There is no doubt that Elena was the soul of that house. That she softened something not only in her husband, but in his brothers as well.
I remember Kirill telling me that Elena grew up in the same slums they did back in Moscow. That she had been not only their next-door neighbor, but a prominent figure in the Petrov household. And when she came of age, she made that permanent by marrying the only boy she had ever loved.
I can’t even begin to put myself in his place right now.
The very nightmare I tried to avoid when I pushed Kirill away is the grueling horror he is living through.
His suffering must be beyond comprehension.
Beyond anything anyone should ever have to endure.
When I left Russia, I knew there was no love lost between Mikhail and me. I knew he wanted me gone because he saw the influence I had over Kirill. But now? My heart goes out to him. It aches knowing that his future will never be the one he envisioned for himself—with Elena at his side.
I can still recall the exact words he said to me once. How killing a man’s wife, the person he loves most in this world, is the same as killing the man himself. How he would never wish that on his worst enemy, let alone an ally. And now here he is, forced to live exactly that.
“She’s here! She’s here!” Lucky shouts in pure relief as he peers out the window.
I shove in beside him for a look and see Frankie standing in front of a line of SUVs, her face red from crying even from this distance.
“Let’s go!” Lucky barks at the flight attendants, ordering them to radio in for the stairs. Not five minutes later, the plane door opens. Lucky bolts down the staircase and runs straight into the arms of the love of his life. Frankie launches herself at him, hiding her face in his chest as she lets herself fall apart in his embrace.
I give them space before stepping off the plane myself.
When I reach them, Lucky is wiping Frankie’s tears away, one arm wrapped tightly around her waist like he’s afraid she’ll disappear.
“I’m so sorry, Frankie,” I say, pulling her into a hug. But my brows knit together when her body goes stiff in my arms.
“Thank you,” she says quietly, her eyes never meeting mine. “We should… we should get going. It’s, um… a long drive to the compound.”
Lucky kisses her forehead and leads her toward the car, while I trail behind them, unsettled by how strange she’s acting.Misha’s men gather our bags and load them into the trunk as we slide into one of the SUVs.
“And Darius?” Lucky asks, his attention never leaving Frankie. “How is he taking all this?”
“He’s heartbroken,” she sobs, resting her head on Lucky’s shoulder. “I know it was only a few months, but Elena leaves an imprint. Her heart was so big, Lucky. So big. She treated Darius like he was just as much a Petrov as I am.”
“And where is he now?” I ask, noting how Frankie almost flinches at my voice.
“He’s with Sasha,” she stammers. “The two of them have grown close this summer. They’re almost inseparable now.”
“Really?” Lucky asks, looking just as stunned as I am. Sasha isn’t exactly known for being warm and welcoming, so the thought of him bonding with the bright, gentle spirit that is Darius is nothing short of astonishing.
“You have the wrong idea about my uncle,” Frankie says softly. “He’s not as mean as he lets people believe.”
Lucky throws me a look over Frankie’s head that says‘I’ll believe that shit when I see it’.
