Chapter 2 #2
“I’m sorry I fucked up your night,” I say, resting my chin on her shoulder.
“That’s okay. Not like it was a good one to begin with,” she says, holding her hands over mine on her belly.
“That bad, huh? Didn’t have fun even a little bit?”
“Not really. But that’s okay. I’m used to it.”
My heart plummets at the resignation in her voice.
This just won’t do.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” I ask, needing to put a smile back on my sister’s face. “Do you think you can fit in some quality sister time into your busy schedule?”
“That’s a joke, right?” She smiles timidly.
“I’m serious,” I say, starting to tickle her, grateful when she lets out a genuine laugh.
“I’m volunteering at the soup kitchen tomorrow night,” she says out of breath. “But I have most of the day free.”
“Good. Then how about you and I do something tomorrow? Just the two of us. We can even go see one of those rom-coms you like so much and gorge on all the popcorn and candy you can eat.”
“Can we call Frankie? Can we invite her to come with us too?” Anna asks excitedly.
“Don’t see why not? Lucky is bound to pitch a fit that we’re taking his precious time away from his girlfriend, so I’d call it a win-win,” I tease.
“Yes, I’d like that.” Anna practically glows with happiness.
“Good. Then it’s a date.” I kiss her cheek and start toward my bed, but she stops me with a gentle tug, refusing to let go just yet.
“Stay a bit longer. Please? Just until I fall asleep?” The vulnerability in her voice makes me nod.
Shit. I did this. I’m the reason why my sister doesn’t want to fall asleep on her own. All because I reminded her about all the bad things our family does and all the bad people who might have an issue with it and come looking for us.
Guilt pollutes my soul as I hold her tight and wait until her breathing slows.
Annamaria might have been born into our world, but she isn’t made from the same cloth as the rest of us. Neither one of us loses sleep fearing the worst might fall on our family. The weight of that fear is carried solely on my sweet sister’s shoulders.
God, she deserves so much more than what we are able to offer her. And reminding Anna of the burden our last name carries, even in jest, was just cruel on my part.
Tomorrow, I’ll make it up to her. I’ll give her one day of normalcy. Even if it’s a lie.
The late-afternoon sun hits us square in the face as we step out of the theater, blinking against the light as if we had just crawled out of another century. The smell of buttered popcorn, mixed with the chill of December air, still clings to our clothes as people stream past us on the sidewalk.
“I don’t care what anybody says, but Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo and Juliet is still my favorite.”
Yep. Out of all the movies in existence, that’s the one my sister chose for our day out.
Mind you, if I’d had it my way, we would’ve seen the latest slasher flick.
But since I was trying to give Annamaria a good day, I doubt watching guts and blood splattered across the screen would’ve put the same dreamy smile on her face as Leonardo DiCaprio professing his undying love to Claire Danes.
I’ll never understand why this movie’s labeled a romance when everyone ends up dead.
Not that Frankie or my sister seems to mind.
They’ve got that lovesick sparkle in their eyes that makes me want to gag.
Still, as long as it makes Annamaria’s day a little less shitty than yesterday, I’ll take it.
And I know just how to put the cherry on top of this afternoon’s outing.
“You know what I’m in the mood for? Some Chunky Monkey, right about now.”
Anna’s smile widens instantly.
“I could go for some ice cream,” Frankie says, perfectly in tune with what I’m trying to do. “I don’t have to be back at the orphanage before curfew anyway.”
“What about you, Anna? In the mood for something cold and sweet?”
“Definitely!” she says, practically glowing.
My smile stretches wide at the excitement in my sister’s voice. Long gone are the forlorn thoughts about our family and the way we make our living. At least for the rest of this afternoon, that is.
We head to Anna’s favorite little ice-cream parlor and demolish our sundaes, winter be damned. Outside, Chicago’s streets are dusted white, the air sharp and full of noise, but one smile from Annamaria makes it all fade away. At least I can still manage to do that right.
I’m caught up in the wonder of my sister’s joy, but the sharp trill of Frankie’s phone drags me back to reality.
“Sorry,” Frankie says, blushing as she checks her phone. “It’s just Lucky texting to see if I’m done with girls’ day.”
“Word to the wise. You’d better nip that shit in the bud quick, Frankie. You don’t want a man who keeps you on a tight leash.”
“He doesn’t do that, Stella. Lucky is just eager to spend as much time as he can with Frankie,” Anna is quick to defend our brother. “He’s in love.”
Frankie’s blush deepens into every shade of red at the remark, her eyes lowering to her half-eaten ice cream as she fidgets with her bracelet nervously.
My gaze lands on the saint charm and the inscription on it, recalling our trip to Little Russia.
Anna’s right. Lucky must really be head over heels for Frankie if he was willing to step into enemy territory just to learn something about her biological family. Not sure it’s a good thing that the girl he fell for has such a keepsake, though.
Still, I like Frankie. Not just because she’s made my brother a little more tolerable, but because she’s managed to make him think about someone other than himself for once. That alone speaks volumes about her good influence on him.
“That’s a pretty trinket you’ve got there,” I say coolly, as if I’d only just noticed it.
“Oh, thanks,” she says, quickly hiding it under her sleeve as if self-conscious about it.
“Did one of the nuns give it to you?”
“Stella, don’t be rude,” Anna scolds, noticing how Frankie hesitates to talk about her keepsake.
“When does asking a question count as being rude?” I roll my eyes.
“It’s okay,” Frankie says, pulling the bracelet back into the light. “I don’t mind talking about it.”
“See? She doesn’t mind,” I counter, smirking at a flustered Anna. “Can I see it?”
“Sure.”
Frankie extends her arm so I can take a better look. The bracelet is exactly like the photo Lucky showed Kirill—solid gold, with a saintly figure at its center and intricate words etched around it. Definitely Russian.
Kirill might’ve claimed he didn’t know if it had any meaning, but he sure as hell could’ve read what it said.
“Do you know what it says?”
Frankie nods. “I’m not sure if it’s accurate since I used Google Translate, but it says, ‘You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.’ Not sure if it has any other significance, though.
It was the only thing my birth parents left me with.
I think they must’ve been really devout or something.
I mean, they did abandon me at a church, after all.
” She smiles, but sorrow dulls her eyes.
Abandon. She used that word herself, and it still must feel wrong on her tongue.
Devout or not, who the hell leaves their newborn on church steps and walks away? Just because someone acts holy doesn’t mean they aren’t capable of the most fucked-up choices. The Romanos never miss Sunday Mass, and we all know what my family gets up to during the rest of the week.
“It’s really pretty,” Anna says sweetly. “I’m sure they must’ve really loved you to leave you such a memento.”
Frankie’s eyes soften at my sister’s words.
“You really think so?”
“Of course I do. Don’t you?”
“Sometimes I do. But sometimes it’s hard to believe they could’ve loved me at all if it was so easy to give me up,” Frankie admits, vulnerability lacing her voice.
“I doubt it was easy for them,” Anna says, placing her hand over Frankie’s on the table. “And by leaving you that bracelet, maybe it was their way of telling you just how hard that decision really was for them.” Frankie’s expression softens again.
That’s Anna for you. She always knows exactly what to say to make people feel better.
Me, on the other hand? I’d rather know for sure who Frankie’s parents are. If they’re Russian—like that bracelet suggests—then maybe Kirill was lying through his perfect teeth when he pretended not to know.
And it’s not like Lucky and Enzo are heading back to Little Russia anytime soon. One meet and greet with the Bratva underboss was enough for them.
But as luck would have it, I’m not so easily deterred.
Maybe it’s time Kirill got another visit.
One that doesn’t include the twins. Somehow, I think he’ll be far more accommodating if I come alone.
Maybe then I’ll get some real answers for once.
If that includes the reason behind why he showed up at the ball last night, even better.
And if that earns me a few points with my father, well… that’s just a bonus.
He did ask if I was up to the challenge, didn’t he?
Weren’t those his precise words? An open invitation to chaos?
Little does he know, I’m more than up for anything Kirill Petrov can throw my way.