“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” I say smoothly, trying to stay calm, or I’ll end up putting a bullet in his skull, too, if he doesn’t let me tend to Stella.
“I’m not fucking around, Kirill. Let Frankie and my sister go!”
Annoyance tightens my throat. “And what are you going to do? Shoot me?”
Lucky answers me by shooting Lev in the leg. Good. He deserves much worse for letting Pyotr shoot my girl.
However, as Lucky continues to shout at me, demanding I let go of his sister, while somehow managing to put himself between Kira and me, my patience with him runs out.
“Frances,” I call out, because she’s the only other person I need on this plane right now. “If you want to know where you really came from—who your birth parents are—you’ll tell your boyfriend to lower his gun.”
That’s all she needs to hear to make her decision.
“Fuck. If Frankie’s going with you, then so am I,” Luciano shouts back, my patience with him microscopic now.
Since time is of the essence, I concede to his blackmail and quickly climb the stairs with Stella still in my arms.
“Thanks for the help, Kostya,” I curse at my brother the second I’m inside. “Didn’t think to lend a hand when a gun was being aimed at my head?”
“You looked like you had it covered,” he says, before his eyes land on my Stella. “Is that her?”
My grip tightens. “No,” I reply, tilting my chin to Kira trailing behind me.
Holy-shit recognition slams across Kostya’s face in an instant. “She looks just like—”
“I know.”
Still, he moves toward her like an idiot with no sense of boundaries.
“Wow. Never thought this day would come,” Kostya states, eyes wide.
Luciano bristles at the way Kostya takes in every inch of Kira’s face, completely captivated by the resemblance to our sister.
“And who the fuck are you?” Lucky asks, disgruntled.
“I’m that motherfucker’s brother, Konstantin. But you can call me Kostya.”
“Nice to meet you.” Kostya laughs at Kira’s unexpected friendly reply.
“Guess the intel was right. You really are a nun if you’re that polite to your kidnappers.”
“You’re not kidnapping me. I’m here of my own volition. You said you had information about my parents, so let’s hear it.”
God, the spine on her. Just like Katya.
“All in good time,plemyannitsa,” I say, the word rolling off my tongue with ease.
I wish I could enjoy being able to finally call her that, but right now, my mind isn’t on this happy reunion. It’s on Stella.
As if knowing the misery I’m in, Stella shifts faintly against me, and I go still, breath catching.
She’s too pale. Too cold. Too quiet.
I don’t have time for reunions. I need to make sure my Stella doesn’t fucking bleed out and die on me.
“Take a seat. Make yourselves comfortable. Kostya, tell the pilot we’re good to go,” I command, already moving toward the back of the plane where a small bedroom awaits.
But to my bitter chagrin, Kira and Luciano refuse to leave Stella alone with me, convinced I’ll hurt her, when all I want—all Ineed—is to save her.
