Chapter 11 #3
‘Infant brought to St. Mary’s Church, at an estimated age of three months. No identifying documents. Medical evaluation suggests a healthy female. Named Frances by Mother Superior. Given surname O’Malley. Date of birth assigned in honor of Saint Frances.’
My chest tightens so sharply that I have to steady myself against the cabinet. An orphan. Left at a church. No family. No records. Just like Katya’s daughter would’ve been if my sister were desperate enough to hide her from the evil men who were chasing her.
I keep reading, needing to find out more.
‘No family contact across the years. The only item found with the child was an engraved gold bracelet.’
A gold bracelet. My grandmother’s bracelet. The same one she gave Katya before fleeing to America.
There are several pages, with dozens of entries, from academic notes to behavior warnings. The last one in particular catches my attention.
‘Recent incident: Student punched Luciano Romano in Sister Agnes’s class in front of their peers. Assigned tutoring with the same student to encourage humility for one and anger management for the other.’
I almost laugh. Of course she would punch Luciano. The cocky kid seems like he’d benefit from a good punch or two. And from what I just witnessed in the parking lot, their forced proximity worked in a way neither of them could’ve expected.
Hmm. I’m not sure how I should feel about Kira being in a relationship with Lucky. For the second time today, an unexpected flicker of protectiveness hits me like a tidal wave. But judging by the smile he put on her face, I can’t muster any real hatred for the kid.
I continue to flick through her file, my breath stuttering when I come across a school picture clipped to the back of the file—Frances in her plaid uniform, blue eyes bright, hair pulled back neatly, smiling in a way that punches straight through my ribs.
It’s her. It’s Kira. Of that, I have no remaining doubt.
I slide the photo free and tuck it into the inner pocket of my coat. Then I return the file, close the cabinet, vault back over the counter, and head for the door.
Once I’m sure the hallway is clear, I slip out, hoping to be gone before the nun comes back with Mother Superior—or worse, before I run into any of the Romano siblings.
But as I rush around the corner, something soft slams into me.
A box of Christmas decorations bursts open across the floor, red ribbons and a stack of snowflake cutouts scattering around my feet.
“I’m so sorry!” the young girl blurts, blonde hair swinging over her face as she kneels to scoop everything up. “I didn’t mean to run into you.”
“No, don’t apologize,” I say, crouching to help her. “I should’ve been paying more attention.”
If my head weren’t spinning with thoughts of Kira, I would’ve never let myself get blindsided like that.
When she lifts her face to thank me, her ocean blue eyes go wide.
Shit. Of all the people in this school, I had to run into Annamaria Romano.
“I’ve met you before, haven’t I?” she asks, squinting.
“I don’t think so,” I answer too quickly, trying to hand her the last snowflake and nudge her to her feet.
“No, I have.” Her voice firms. “You’re Mr. Petrov. I met you at the winter gala earlier this month.”
“Ah… yes, of course,” I say, feigning a sheepish smile. “Forgive me. I met so many people that night, it’s hard to keep track of every face and name.”
Annamaria’s lips instantly pull downward at the remark. “No worries. I’m used to being forgotten.”
The way she says it—so resigned, so matter-of-fact, as if forgetting her existence is just the natural order of things—sends a slow, sinking heaviness through me.
She can’t be more than fifteen, sixteen at best, yet she carries a weariness no kid should know, as if the world convinced her early on she wasn’t worth noticing.
I straighten and soften my tone. “Nonsense. I remember now. You’re Annamaria, right? Vincent’s daughter.” Her eyes flick up to mine. “My apologies. How could anyone forget such a bright smile?” I add, since I’ll be damned if I let such an innocent creature walk around thinking she isn’t worth much.
Annamaria’s cheeks warm, but she catches onto my intention instantly. “You don’t have to say that,” she mutters. “But… thank you. It’s very kind of you.”
Kind? Yeah, that’s not me. I don’t have a kind bone in my body. But I’m not a heartless monster either. Something tells me Annamaria has met more than her share of those.
“What are you doing here?” Annamaria asks far too bluntly, as if suddenly realizing how out of place I must look at her school.
“I’m just dropping off a Christmas donation for the school and the orphanage,” I lie without blinking. It’s the only thing I could think of.
Annamaria studies my face for a pregnant pause, her eyes too clear, too perceptive.
“That isn’t why you’re here,” she accuses softly, as if she’s used to spotting lies and half-truths.
“But that’s okay. It wasn’t my place to ask.
” She offers a shy, little smile. “Whatever it is, I hope you got what you came for. Take care, Mr. Petrov.”
When she walks away, I’m left with an odd twist in my gut, feeling a sense of guilt and irritation that someone saw through me that fast.
Still, I don’t have time to dwell on that.
I need to get the hell out of here before another Romano sees me.
Or worse, before I run into Kira. I’m not sure I’d have the fortitude to stand in front of her and say nothing.
Not yet. Not until I get my orders from Misha. He’ll know the best course of action.
If Kira is surrounded by Romanos, that means she has their protection. And while that should make me breathe easier, it doesn’t. It just adds another complication I’ll have to maneuver around.
Once I’m outside the school, I hurry to my car and make the phone call my brother has been waiting for most of his adult life.
Misha picks up on the second ring but says nothing. He waits, as if he knows what’s coming.
“I found her,” I say finally, true emotion in my voice. “I found Kira.”
A shaky breath escapes him, followed by the scrape of a chair against the tile, as if he needed to sit down before having this long-awaited conversation.
“Are you sure?”
“I’d bet my life on it.” That’s all the confirmation he needs.
“Where?”
“At a private Catholic school in the city. Sacred Heart. It’s her, Misha. It’s her.”
“Make the necessary arrangements. I want you in the air with Kira before the day ends.”
“That can be… tricky.”
“Why?” he growls, unhappy with my answer.
“Because of her… affiliations.”
“Speak plainly, Kirill.”
“She’s entangled with the Romanos.”
“How entangled?”
“She’s dating Luciano Romano.”
“I don’t see the problem.”
“Well, you should. We have no idea the extent of their relationship. If she was welcomed into the Romano fold, they might consider her one of theirs, and not—
A loud crash cuts me off on his end before I can finish my sentence.
“She’s a Petrov!” he roars. “A Petrov! Bring me Katya’s daughter, Kirill! That’s an order!”
I’m no longer talking to my brother. I’m talking to the Pakhan. And I know it.
“Yes, boss.”
The line goes quiet for a long, heavy pause before he speaks again. “By day’s end, Kill. Don’t fuck this up,” he says before hanging up on me.
Blyad. This is going to be a shit show. I can already feel it.
Still, he’s right. Kira belongs to us. Not the Romanos.
Unfortunately for me, I can’t just walk back into the school and snatch my niece from their grasp.
They outnumber me, and while I could easily take care of the twins, there are two Romanos I don’t want to face—Marcello, for one, and Stella, for another.
Pizdets. Stella is going to think I used her to get close to Kira. And she’d be right. That was my intention. But aside from a few conversations, I didn’t actually work her for intel. Not like I should have. Instead, I used my time to… what? Grow feelings for her? Blyad.
Okay. One problem at a time. I need to focus on one goddamn problem at a time. And right now, my biggest one is getting Kira home.
I pick up my phone and call my most efficient soldat.
“Boss?” Lev greets, answering the call.
“I need you to come to Sacred Heart and follow someone.”
“Who, boss?”
“I’m sending you the photograph now,” I explain, taking Kira’s photo from my coat and sending him a quick snap of it.
“Got it. Anything else?”
“Yes. Once you’re sure she’s alone, I need you to bring her to me. I’ll send you the address.”
“Sounds like a two-man job, boss”.
“I don’t care who you take with you. Just bring her to me. Tonight, Lev.”
“Understood. I’m on my way.”
I hang up and wait for Lev to arrive, not wanting Kira to leave the school before he gets here and misses her.
When his car pulls up beside mine, I roll down my window and see he’s brought his unreliable brother-in-law, Pyotr, as his sidekick.
“Don’t disappoint me, Lev,” I warn, since it will be his head if they fuck this up. “The Pakhan wants the girl on a plane back to Moscow tonight. Understood?”
“Understood.”
With one last glance at the school entrance, I drive off, heading home to tell Kostya not to bother unpacking his bags.
By nightfall, all of us are going home.
And by this time tomorrow, our family will be whole.