Page 159 of Vicious Games

He scoffs under his breath. “You tell me. This was your bright idea—getting on a plane with the fucking Bratva.”

“Bratva?” I blink.

“The Russian mafia, Frankie. That’s who those assholes are.”

My heart all but stops.

“And what do they want withme?Do you really think they have information about my parents?”

“I don’t know,” Lucky admits, his eyes flicking back to Stella, worry clouding his face. “What happened to her?”

“Stella was driving me back to the orphanage when two of Kirill’s thugs ran us off the road. She tried to protect me—fired at them and everything. But they shot back. I think… I think she hit her head hard on the pavement. She’s been out cold for almost an hour now.”

“Fuck. That’s not good.”

“No. It’s not.” I pause. “But how did you even find us?”

Lucky doesn’t answer right away.

“Lucky?”

“I couldn’t let things end like that,” he finally says. “With us, I mean. After you left the house, I got in my car and headed to the orphanage so we could talk it out. That’s when I found Stella’s car bullet-ridden and empty. I knew you were in trouble.”

I stare at him, already dreading the next part. “So how did you find us?”

He winces. “I… tracked your phone.”

“You what?” I practically shout.

“Babe, can you please be mad at me after we survive this?”

I grit my teeth. “Fine. But we’re not done with this conversation.”

“Noted.” He gives a tight nod. “Anyway, the tracker led me here.”

“Did you call for backup? Your parents?”

“Yeah. I sent word. They should be on their way by now,” he says, picking up his phone and quickly texting his family.

I glance out the small plane window, and frown when the tarmac is already rolling past us.

“I don’t think they’re going to get here in time,” I whisper, watching the plane hurry down the tarmac.

Lucky nods, but I can see the worry etched in his features.

“They won’t, will they?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he steps closer and gently cups my face, his forehead resting against mine.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you. You know that, right?”

I exhale slowly, trying to calm my pounding heart as the plane picks up speed.

“I know,” I whisper back. “But I don’t think I’m the one you should be worried about.”

Because something in my gut tells me that Kirill and Kostya wouldn’t hurt me.

But Lucky?

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