“I’m so sorry!” the young girl blurts, blonde hair swinging over her face as she kneels to scoop everything up. “I didn’t mean to run into you.”
“No, don’t apologize,” I say, crouching to help her. “I should’ve been paying more attention.”
If my head weren’t spinning with thoughts of Kira, I would’ve never let myself get blindsided like that.
When she lifts her face to thank me, her ocean blue eyes go wide.
Shit. Of all the people in this school, I had to run into Annamaria Romano.
“I’ve met you before, haven’t I?” she asks, squinting.
“I don’t think so,” I answer too quickly, trying to hand her the last snowflake and nudge her to her feet.
“No, I have.” Her voice firms. “You’re Mr. Petrov. I met you at the winter gala earlier this month.”
“Ah… yes, of course,” I say, feigning a sheepish smile. “Forgive me. I met so many people that night, it’s hard to keep track of every face and name.”
Annamaria’s lips instantly pull downward at the remark. “No worries. I’m used to being forgotten.”
The way she says it—so resigned, so matter-of-fact, as if forgetting her existence is just the natural order of things—sends a slow, sinking heaviness through me. She can’t be more than fifteen, sixteen at best, yet she carries a weariness no kid should know, as if the world convinced her early on she wasn’t worth noticing.
I straighten and soften my tone. “Nonsense. I remember now. You’re Annamaria, right? Vincent’s daughter.” Her eyes flick up to mine. “My apologies. How could anyone forget such a bright smile?” I add, since I’ll be damned if I let such an innocent creature walk around thinking she isn’t worth much.
Annamaria’s cheeks warm, but she catches onto my intention instantly. “You don’t have to say that,” she mutters. “But… thank you. It’s very kind of you.”
Kind? Yeah, that’s not me. I don’t have a kind bone in my body. But I’m not a heartless monster either. Something tells me Annamaria has met more than her share of those.
“What are you doing here?” Annamaria asks far too bluntly, as if suddenly realizing how out of place I must look at her school.
“I’m just dropping off a Christmas donation for the school and the orphanage,” I lie without blinking. It’s the only thing I could think of.
Annamaria studies my face for a pregnant pause, her eyes too clear, too perceptive. “That isn’t why you’re here,” she accuses softly, as if she’s used to spotting lies and half-truths. “But that’s okay. It wasn’t my place to ask.” She offers a shy, littlesmile. “Whatever it is, I hope you got what you came for. Take care, Mr. Petrov.”
When she walks away, I’m left with an odd twist in my gut, feeling a sense of guilt and irritation that someone saw through me that fast.
Still, I don’t have time to dwell on that. I need to get the hell out of here before another Romano sees me. Or worse, before I run into Kira. I’m not sure I’d have the fortitude to stand in front of her and say nothing. Not yet. Not until I get my orders from Misha. He’ll know the best course of action.
If Kira is surrounded by Romanos, that means she has their protection. And while that should make me breathe easier, it doesn’t. It just adds another complication I’ll have to maneuver around.
Once I’m outside the school, I hurry to my car and make the phone call my brother has been waiting for most of his adult life.
Misha picks up on the second ring but says nothing. He waits, as if he knows what’s coming.
“I found her,” I say finally, true emotion in my voice. “I found Kira.”
A shaky breath escapes him, followed by the scrape of a chair against the tile, as if he needed to sit down before having this long-awaited conversation.
“Are you sure?”
“I’d bet my life on it.” That’s all the confirmation he needs.
“Where?”
“At a private Catholic school in the city. Sacred Heart. It’s her, Misha. It’s her.”
“Make the necessary arrangements. I want you in the air with Kira before the day ends.”
“That can be… tricky.”
