Page 188 of Vicious Games

“Kira, we should go. It’s late,” she says simply.

“Are you sure, Aunt Elena?”

“I’m quite sure,” she replies, nodding curtly toward the doctor.

He looks like he just went ten rounds with Mike Tyson but doesn’t stop us from leaving.

“Is everything okay?” I ask as she leans on my arm for support.

“Everything could not be better, Kira. Everything is just perfect.”

There’s such a lightness in her voice, such radiant joy in her smile, that any concern I had fizzles out. Whatever argument she just had with her doctor, it seems she won—because she practically floats down the hallway, rejuvenated.

When we meet Aleksandr outside the exam rooms, Elena reins her joy in a bit.

“Everything all right?” he asks, his eyes scanning our faces.

“Everything is fine, Sasha. Now take us home. Kira is hungry.”

Actually, food is the last thing on my mind, but I don’t contradict her.

The hour-long drive back to the Petrov compound is quiet.

Elena sits beside me, her thoughts clearly keeping her occupied, while Aleksandr is busy tapping away on his phone. I just stare out the window, trying to make sense of the day—from Kostya’s cryptic warning to Elena’s tense doctor visit, everything feels upside down.

At least Lucky no longer seems disappointed with me.

Or at least he wasn’t last night when he came to bed and again this morning before I left it.

My cheeks warm at the memory—every kiss, every soft moan, the way his fingers traced—

But the moment is shattered when I catch a glimpse of Stella and Kirill walking out of the mansion.

I sit up straighter, and even though the limo hasn’t even fully stopped when I open the door and step outside, I head towards them in a sprint. But before I can call out Stella’s name, Lucky and Kostya walk out of the house too, their expressions unmistakably guilty.

“What’s going on?” I ask, looking from face to face.

“What’s going on is that your uncle Kirill says we’ve overstayed our welcome,” Stella huffs, arms folded, jaw tight with frustration.

“I never said that,milaya,” Kirill snaps through gritted teeth. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“Whatever. I don’t care.” Stella shrugs him off. “It’s Christmas in a couple of days. Wasn’t looking forward to spending the holiday with you anyway.”

“Milaya—

“Don’tdarlingme, Kill. I’m over it.” She waves him off and stomps toward one of the black SUVs parked in front of the house, purposely waiting for her.

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” I demand, bypassing my uncles to stand in front of Lucky.

“We’re going home,” he says once he’s close enough.

“Home?”

“Yeah. We can’t stay here, Frankie. We’ve stayed as long as we could. Now it’s time we head back to Chicago.”

“Oh.” It comes out small, fragile. Like something inside me just cracked. “I didn’t think you’d leave so soon.”

“I know.” He reaches out and gently tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “But it is what it is, I guess.”

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