“I want to talk to Lucky. I want to make sure he and Frankie are alright.”
“We would never hurt Kira,” he says matter-of-factly.
“I don’t doubt that after the lengths you went to get her. Get me my brother. Now, Kirill!” The venom in my voice finally gets him moving.
“I never wanted any of this,” he says quietly, the words heavy with regret.
“Just get me my brother,” I mutter coldly, not meeting his eyes.
Kirill leaves the room without another word, and I sit there, piecing it all together.
He played me.
All this time, he was using me to get intel on Frankie. Or Kira. Or whatever the fuck name the Petrovs want to give her.
A moment later, my thoughts drift to Frankie. How lost she sometimes looked when she thought no one was watching. How Lucky had been so desperate to fill that hole in her life left by her abandonment. And by the way Kirill spoke of his niece, it sounds like there’s been a missing gap in his family too. A hole they were desperate to fill—by finding Frankie.
I can’t be upset. Sure, I’m butthurt that Kirill used me like that, but I can’t fault him for doing everything he could to find his family.
I just wish I didn’t feel so used. As if I didn’t mean anything to him.
Damn it. Why do I even care? It’s not like Kirill means anything to me. He was just a pastime. Something to entertain myself with. Nothing more. So why does his deceit hurt so much? Why does this ache in my chest hurt so goddamn much?
Thankfully, I don’t get to dwell on that for long, since Kirill returns with my brother.
“Fuck, you’re okay,” Lucky rushes into the room, dropping into the chair beside me, real fear still lingering in his eyes. “For a second there, I thought we were going to lose you.”
“I’m made of harder stuff than that,” I say, giving him a reassuring smile.
Lucky lets out a long exhale, genuinely relieved I didn’t kick the bucket. As if a little bullet could ever stop me. Still, we’re not out of the woods yet.
My gaze falls away from my brother’s relieved expression to land on the man in black, leaning against the door.
“You can go now.” His jaw ticks, but he refuses to do as I say. “I’d like to have a private moment with my brother. Is that alright with you, or do you need permission from the warden?”
“She said leave, motherfucker!” Lucky piles on, his glare even more venomous than mine.
“I’ll be outside if you need me,” Kirill says, finally doing as requested.
When he shuts the door behind him, I lock eyes with my brother, needing to know everything that transpired while I was out of commission.
“Tell me everything. I want to know exactly why the fuck we’re stranded in Russia right now.”
Lucky spends the next hour walking me through everything, from the tiniest details to the harshest truths, without a single shortcut or bit of sugarcoating.
“Damn it, Lucky. You sure know how to pick ‘em,” I let out an exhale after he’s finished.
“This isn’t Frankie’s fault. She’s never seen these people before in her life.”
“Well, these people, as you call them, are her family. Hertruefamily. Are you okay with that?”
“Honestly? No. All of this feels… off. They’re all treating her like…like…I don’t know. It’s like they put her on a pedestal. Like she’s some saint or something.”
“You mean like a lostBratvaprincess coming home? Of course they’re going to pull out all the stops for her. Wouldn’t you if the tables were reversed?”
“I guess.” He shrugs, unconvinced. “What about you? How are you holding up?” he asks, needing a breather from the drama that is Frankie’s newfound family.
“I could be better. But hey, I’ll survive.” Lucky’s expression shifts, concern tightening his jaw.
