Page 131 of Vicious Games

Fuck. Every threat, every breath we held. All that for nothing. Damn it.

“Let’s go,” I mutter defeatedly, more to myself than my siblings.

Enzo and I start heading for the door, but Stella doesn’t move. She stands her ground, eye to eye with Kirill, ready to go to war.

“If you ever disrespect me, my mother, or anyone in my family again,” she says, voice low and sharp like the blades she loves, “I’ll cut out your tongue and make sure it’s the last thing you ever say.”

Instead of taking her threat to heart, Kirill acts like she just wrote him a sonnet. He lets out a grin, and then leans in, his breath brushing her ear. “Don’t tempt me with a good time,milaya… or I might just keep you here.”

“Please,” she spits, nostrils flaring. “You wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like me.”

His smile widens. “Ah, but how fun it would be to try.”

And then—because apparently, this night wasn’t deranged enough—he lifts her hand and presses a tender kiss on her knuckles as if he were some kind of twisted, unhinged gentleman.

Even Stella freezes in place, stunned in silence.

“Till we meet again,” he says with a wink, then turns his back on us without a care in the world, vanishing into the thick smoke as if we were never here at all.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here before that asshole changes his mind,” I growl, already halfway to the door.

Stella finally moves, breaking her haze and storming after us without a word. When we reach outside, we’re faced with the bouncer still lying on the pavement, groaning in pain. No one helped him in all the time we were inside. Either because they didn’t notice or just didn’t care to.

Stella pauses over him, glancing back at the club, then down again. Without warning, she gives him a few more solid kicks, more punishment than purpose, just raw nerves looking for an outlet.

“Are you done?” I ask when the poor bastard starts coughing out blood onto the sidewalk.

“No,” she huffs. “But it’ll have to do.”

We head for the car and drive home, each one of us with our own pensive thoughts.

Enzo is just thankful he didn’t die and can still make his date.

Stella’s pissed she didn’t get to kick Kirill’s head in like she did his bouncer.

And me? No closer to finding Frankie’s birth parents.

All in all, a shitty way to end the night.

Chapter 22

Frances

I’m just walking down the hallway, minding my own business, eager to get a snack, when a hand snatches my forearm and yanks me into the girls’ restroom.

“What the—”

I spin, ready to tell off whatever lunatic thinks it’s okay to ambush someone near the vending machines, but all my words stall in my throat when I come face to face with flame-red hair.

“Stella?” I ask, surprised.

What the hell is she doing at Sacred Heart?

Before I can ask, she’s already barking orders to the other girls in the bathroom. “Out. All of you. Move.”

One of the girls, still glossing her lips, stares at her through the mirror, ready to argue. Stella claps her hands once, loud and sharp, with a menacing look in her eyes. That does the trick. The girl bolts, along with everyone else, leaving just the two of us in the echoing silence of the restroom. When Stella locks the door, imprisoning us inside, a knot starts to form in my stomach.

“Stella, what’s going on? You’re kind of scaring me. Is it Lucky? Is he okay?”

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