Page 190 of Vicious Games

And that’s when I notice the second car pulling up behind us.

Uncle Misha. Sasha. Kostya.

All three stepping out, clearly there to see the Romanos off.

There’s something about that—about them making sure Lucky and Stella actually leave—that unsettles me.

And I’m not entirely sure how I feel about that.

This all feels so surreal that I don’t even realize Stella is saying goodbye until her arms are around me, holding me close.

“If you need anything, just call. I’ll be on the first plane over here, okay?” she says softly.

I nod, unable to find the words to thank her—for everything. For protecting me. For keeping me safe when I didn’t even know I needed it.

She leans in closer, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Also… if you can, keep an eye on Kill for me.”

I nod again, still feeling like a zombie, my emotions too scrambled to speak.

And then it’s Lucky’s turn.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I stammer, barely managing to hold myself together.

“You can. And you will.” He tries to assure. “Remember, I’m only a phone call away, okay?”

He brushes a strand of hair out of my face with such tenderness it nearly undoes me.

“I’ll check in on Darius. Explain everything to him. And I’ll even make sure Sister Margaretta knows you’re okay. You know she’s been calling my mom nonstop looking for you, right?”

Guilt twists inside me. I should’ve called her. I should’ve let her know I was safe.

But everything…is happening too fast.

Me finding my family…only to watch my other family depart.

“Stop,” Lucky says, seeing the guilt all over my face. “She cares about you. As long as she knows you’re okay, that’ll be enough for her.”

He smiles faintly, trying to hold it together. “Now give me some sugar, babe. Enough to last however fucking long you’re going to stay here.”

Then he kisses me like his life depends on it.

And I kiss him back with everything I have, pouring all my love, all my fear, all my hope into that one moment—praying it’s enough to sustain us while we’re apart.

When he pulls away, a sob escapes me.

I hate that it hurts this much. I hate that he has to go.

Lucky rests his forehead against mine, eyes shut, breathing me in like he’s trying to hold onto this one moment.

“Just do what you need to do,” he murmurs. “Don’t worry about me, okay?”

“Okay,” I stammer, barely holding myself upright.

“That’s my girl.” His voice breaks just a little. “I love you, Frankie. I’ll wait for you my entire life if I need to. Just… know that. Okay?”

“I love you too.” A single tear streaks down my cheek.

And as if seeing me cry is more than he can take, Lucky presses one last kiss to my temple, then turns and walks toward the plane—fast, before either of us has a chance to fall apart completely.

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