Chapter 3 #2
“Why not?” I counter, pulling the deck of cards, each one flashing half-naked women in cheap gloss.
“Classy.” She gives a tight little snort. “What are we playing then?”
“Lady’s choice.”
“Blackjack.”
“Best out of three?” I say, pleased with her choice.
“Why not? You deal.” She shrugs out of her leather jacket, tossing it aside.
My mouth waters at the sight of the black turtleneck molded to her figure, the dark fabric highlighting every subtle line as her wild red hair cascades over her shoulders.
Stella wasn’t lying last night. Black really does look amazing on her.
Needing to focus on something other than her, I start shuffling the deck and hand it to her to split. Once she does, I deal two cards each, both of hers face up, one of mine face down. While she studies her cards, my attention is fully focused on her.
After meeting Selene Romano yesterday, it’s clear Stella takes after her mother with her cupid’s-bow lips, high cheekbones, and emerald eyes that look more like gemstones than anything else.
That untamed mane of copper spilling over her shoulders is the one thing that sets her apart, a fire to her mother’s cool polish.
Stella doesn’t like to be confined. That’s more than clear.
With only a pair of fours, I’m not surprised when she orders another card. “Hit me.”
“As you wish.” I slide her a five of hearts, bringing her total to thirteen.
“So, is this how you spend your days?” she asks, resting her chin on her clasped hands. “Just hanging around this godforsaken club all the time?”
“You sound disapproving.”
“Just not what I expected a Bratva underboss to do with his time, that’s all.” She shrugs, pretending not to care one way or the other.
“And what did you think I should do with my time?”
“Oh, I don’t know… pillage, plunder, burn a town or two?”
“I’m not a Viking, Stella,” I laugh.
“Then what are you?”
“Russian,” I deadpan.
“And just what exactly does that mean?”
“It means I’m proud of where I come from, even if I’m not blind to its flaws. I’m guessing you can relate.” Her teasing smile dims at the remark.
“Hit me,” she says, her gaze dropping back to her cards instead of me.
Since it’s obvious I struck a nerve, I don’t say anything else and let her concentrate on the game at hand.
She wins the first round, and I win the second. By the third game, I know she’s got me beat.
I should be disappointed that I didn’t win, but the satisfied smile that curls across her lips is prize enough.
“Now tell me what you know about my friend’s bracelet,” she asks, too excited to see her error.
I keep my smile in check, but my precious Stella just gave herself away.
Kira. Kira is her friend.
“And don’t give me that bullshit about not knowing because I know that you do. Why else would you have lied to us if you didn’t?”
“Very well. What would you like to know?” I counter, picking up my lighter to keep my hands busy.
“Everything.”
Yeah, that’s not happening.
“I’m not sure of its exact origins,” I start smoothly, my thumb working the Zippo open and shut, “but I can confirm that it’s an old family heirloom.”
“What family?”
“An old forgotten one. One that no longer exists.”
“What do you mean?” she asks with furrowed brows.
“I remember seeing that bracelet once, years ago… on the wrist of an old blind woman. One who’d lost a great deal more than just her sight.”
“A blind woman? What woman?” she interrogates, inching closer to me, needing to get to the bottom of the tale.
Unfortunately for her, this tale is one she will only get in parts, if that.
“Those are a lot of questions, milaya. If you want answers, I’m afraid you’ll have to give me something in return.”
I put down my lighter and start to gather the cards, trying to suggest another game, but the breath is knocked clean from my lungs when she suddenly shifts even closer toward me, lifting herself up and sliding into my lap.
Her arms wrap around my neck, her scent invading every corner of my mind, leaving no room for anything but her.
“Happy now?”
Am I happy? I’m not sure what I’m feeling is happiness or confusion. This was supposed to be just a game. But now with her body pressed up to mine, thought and reason have officially abandoned me.
“Very,” I croak, my voice rougher than I intend.
“Tell me about this woman,” she whispers, her face so close I can feel her breath fan across my skin. She smells sweet at first, then a darker note curls behind it, like she’s hiding fire under silk.
“She had one daughter,” I manage to croak out. “But that daughter was… unfortunately taken from her too soon.”
“Why?” she asks, her voice soft, curiosity threaded with the intensity in her gaze.
“Back then, heroin was crawling through the streets of Moscow like a disease. People didn’t have food, couldn’t afford heat, and barely had the strength or will to survive.
When you’ve got nothing, you reach for anything to numb your suffering.
For most, heroin was the drug of choice,” I explain, while getting lost in the dark green of her eyes.
“The old woman’s daughter fell into the trap of chasing escape through a needle.
To feed her habit, she consorted with the worst of the worst—her beauty the only currency she had to bargain with.
She used it without care, getting pregnant by men who used her up and threw her away without batting an eye,” I add, my chest becoming constricted with the memories of the past. “It broke the old woman’s heart, but she found solace in raising the children her daughter left behind.
Until one day, her daughter was nothing more than a thin, frail corpse found in a gutter—no longer a mother, barely even a human being. ”
Stella’s body molds itself into mine as the words leave my lips, my tone softening with every sentence.
“What happened to her?” she asks quietly. “To the blind woman, I mean?”
“What happens to all of us in the end. Time has its way with us, whether we want it to or not. But unlike her daughter, she went peacefully in the night since death’s kiss was merciful in finding her when she slept.”
I run my thumb along her chin as she takes in my words, trying to piece together her own meaning.
“I’m sorry,” she says softly, unaware of the story’s true weight or what it means to me and mine.
“Don’t be. She’s just one of many sad tales I saw growing up.”
“I’m still sorry,” she insists, her eyes locking with mine—piercing, genuine, incandescent.
I inhale slowly, not wanting to break the connection and greedily taking her all in. My hands slide to her waist, pulling her closer until her breath mingles with mine.
“You’re a dangerous little thing, aren’t you, Stella Romano? To have me telling tales of the old world like this.” I grin faintly. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve put a spell on me.”
“Are you calling me a witch, Kill?”
Kill. She called me Kill.
I smile at that. “I wouldn’t dream of calling you anything but beautiful. Moya prekrasnaya printsessa.”
The moment the words leave my mouth, Stella stiffens in my embrace. It’s the second time she’s gone cold whenever I’ve called her printsessa, and that only piques my curiosity more.
“You don’t like that name, do you, milaya? Printsessa.”
“No, I do not,” she says firmly, pushing herself off my lap.
“Surprising, since you are an Outfit princess by birth. Am I wrong?”
“Yes, you are,” she snaps, slipping her jacket back on, clearly in a rush to leave.
“Leaving so soon?” I ask with a mocking tone, though I find no humor in watching her leave so visibly upset.
“I got what I came for.”
“Is that so?” She nods, her warmth replaced once again by that cool, sharp composure. “And what exactly do you think you achieved with this little visit? I’m curious.”
“Curiosity killed the cat, Kirill.” She zips up her jacket. “But I have to admit that this was… interesting.”
“Agreed,” I say, reclining against the leather cushion. “Maybe we can do it again sometime.”
“Don’t count on it.” She scoffs, flipping her hair over her shoulders before walking out of the club with the same fiery grace she walked in.
Only when she reaches the door do I snap my fingers at Lev. “Follow her,” I order, my expression lethal. “I want to know where she goes and who she’s with at all times. Understood?”
“Yes, boss,” he says, signaling one of my soldiers to go with him.
Yes… Stella’s visit was more than just interesting. It was enlightening.
My friend.
Kira is her friend. Which means I’m this much closer to finding the missing piece of my family.
Soon, Kira. Soon, I’ll be bringing you home.