Page 184 of Vicious Games

And when it’s over, when we’re tangled together and her breath is soft against my chest, I don’t sleep.

I just hold her.

Because if this is goodbye…I want to feel her heartbeat against mine until the sun rises.

Chapter 30

Frances

“You think you can spare a minute for your favorite uncle, niece?” Kostya says with a lopsided grin, tilting his head for me to follow him.

I can’t help but giggle at the comment. It’s going to take me a hot minute to wrap my head around having an uncle who’s only a couple of years older than me.

Kostya has mostly kept to himself during my stay here, but every time we have hung out, he’s been a riot—all sarcasm and sharp wit. So when he leads me into a quiet hallway and his face turns serious, I immediately know something’s wrong.

“Everything okay?”

“Define okay, Frankie,” he says, casting a look left and right, like he’s worried someone might overhear us whispering.

“You look worried.”

“That’s because I am.” Without another word, he opens a door and pulls me inside a room I’ve never seen before.

And suddenly I feel like I just stepped into a period drama. Velvet curtains the color of crushed berries frame tall arched windows. Crystal teacups glimmer on gold-rimmed saucers, resting on a lacquered mahogany table. The wallpaper is a deep green damask, and portraits of long-dead aristocrats stare down at us from gilded frames. If I had to guess, this must’ve been where royalty once entertained their most important guests over tea and secrets.

“What’s up?”

Kostya walks to the window, then turns to face me. His jaw is tight.

“I know that Elena’s waiting for you downstairs, so I’ll make this quick.”

“What is it, Kostya?” I insist, since he’s starting to scare me a little bit.

“When your boy toy heads back to the States… you need to go with him.”

I laugh, caught off guard by anyone calling Lucky my boy toy. But the sound dies quickly when I see the unflinching seriousness in Kostya’s jet-black eyes.

“You… don’t want me here?”

“Honestly? No. I really fucking don’t. The last thing I want is for you to stay here, when we’re just a stone’s throw away from Moscow. Aka Bratva headquarters. You should go home—today if you can.”

His words sting.

I thought we had a connection. We bonded over food and sarcasm. I honestly thought he liked me.

He must see the hurt in my face, because he steps closer and takes my hands gently in his.

“It’s not you, Frankie. I love the shit out of you. You’re my baby niece. Of course, I love you. But you staying here… that’s not smart, hun.”

“I don’t understand. I thought this place was safe. Misha said no one even knows where the house is.”

“This isn’t a house. It’s a prison.” His voice tightens. “One I was stuck in for years before I finally broke out. And I can’t, in good conscience, let you walk into the same trap.”

The confusion must be written all over my face, because he sighs heavily.

“Misha told you why Katya left for the States, right? How she did everything she could to keep you safe and as far away from the Bratva as she could?”

I nod silently.

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