Chapter 12
Kirill
“Where the fuck are they?!” I snap, slamming my Zippo shut harder than necessary.
“Dude, take a Valium or something and chill. Otherwise, you’re going to scare the shit out of the poor girl,” Kostya says, kicking his feet up and getting way too comfortable for the long flight ahead.
He’s right, though. I do need to calm down. The last thing I want is to scare Kira away. I have to keep my shit together, especially since she’ll probably have a million questions the second she steps on the plane. That is… if she ever actually makes it here.
Another glance at my watch tells me it’s been over an hour since Lev texted to confirm he’d secured Kira for me, which is more than enough time for him to be here already.
No matter how hard I fight to stay composed, my mind keeps spinning through every scenario that could’ve gone wrong since his last text, each one chewing through whatever calm I’m trying to muster.
“Then again,” Kostya adds, hands clasped behind his head, eyes shut as if ready for a nap, “I’d be freaking the fuck out too if I were in your shoes.”
“Oh, yeah? Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious? You and Misha went about this all wrong. Sending your goons to pick her up?” He tsks. “Way to go in making a good first impression.”
“If you don’t have anything productive to say, how about you keep your mouth shut?” I grumble, hating that my kid brother might not be in the wrong here.
With a mocking smirk, he pretends to zip his lips and throw the key away.
“I need a fucking smoke,” I mutter, praying the nicotine will take the edge off.
However, before I can even reach for my packet of cigarettes, a car tears into the hangar. One quick look out the window is all I need to confirm it’s Lev. With Kira. Finally.
“They’re here.”
That’s all Kostya needs to hear to spring to his feet, excited with anticipation.
“Not a fucking chance,” I reprimand, shoving him back to his seat.
“The fuck?!”
“Stay here. Like you said, we don’t want to scare her off.”
“You’re way scarier than me, asshole!” he protests with a scowl.
“But I’m the one running this show, remember?” Kostya flips me off and crosses his arms over his chest.
I shake off whatever scraps of anxiety are still clinging to me and get ready to finally welcome Kira into the family.
Kostya was right on that account, too. We need to make a good first impression.
Blood or not, there’s no guarantee she’ll want anything to do with us.
And if she’s been spending time with Luciano, who knows what kind of warped, scathing picture she already has of us Petrovs.
Though something tells me the young Romano isn’t exactly sitting with Kira discussing the inner workings of criminal organizations. From the little I saw of them together, his mind was definitely elsewhere.
Before stepping out of the jet, I take a steadying breath and let my thoughts drift to my sister.
We found her, Katya.
And tonight, she’ll finally understand just how much her mother meant to this family.
How much she means to us.
I begin to slowly descend the staircase, my gaze landing immediately on my niece first. The resemblance of my beloved sister hits so hard it knocks the breath out of my chest. I stop just inches from her, because if I take even one more step, I won’t be able to stop myself from pulling Kira into my arms. And I can’t do that yet, not when she still sees me as nothing more than a stranger.
However, any warmth I could have gotten from seeing Kira this up and close, turns cold the moment I spot fear in her eyes.
Especially when I see her try to wrestle herself free of Lev’s hold.
Something cracks open under my ribs at the sight of any man restraining her like that—let alone one of my own soldiers.
A pulse of fury hits me so hard that I have to grit my teeth not to frighten her.
“Release her.”
“Boss, this one’s a fighter.”
My jaw twitches at his hesitancy to get his filthy hands off her.
“I’m sure she is. Now release her, Lev. That’s an order.”
This time, he follows my command. Kira immediately rubs her wrists, wincing at the sight of Lev’s mark on her.
I have half a mind to put a bullet in his head for even laying a finger on her, but I force myself to pull the thought back. Kira watching me kill someone within minutes of us meeting would only terrify her even more.
“Come. Let me get you some ointment for that,” I manage to say without revealing my true nature or the fury bubbling inside me.
“I’m not going anywhere. Not until I know my friend is okay.”
“Your friend?” I turn my hard gaze to my men, demanding answers. “What is she talking about?”
“We trailed her, just like you said, boss. But she was in the car with the Romano bitch,” Lev quickly explains, sensing my displeasure.
Stella.
The ground suddenly feels like it was ripped from under my feet, my blood turning to ice.
“Where is she now?”
“In the trunk, boss,” Pyotr chimes in.
A trunk?! A trunk! They have my woman in a fucking trunk?!
I move faster than I can even process, faster than I can even breathe, praying these idiots are wrong. That they have someone else in their fucking trunk. However, the second I flip it open and see Stella unconscious, bloody, and curled into the fetal position, something inside me dies.
“Is she okay? Is my friend alright?” Kira asks frantically.
Still, no words leave my mouth since I’m fighting to keep my fucking sanity right now. The only thing to snap me out of my agony is when Pyotr boasts about how they got my girl good. The blinding rage is instant. White-hot.
“Who shot her?”
“I did, boss,” Pyotr says proudly.
His pride lasts only half a second because before he can take another victory lap, I pull my gun out, press it to his skull, and put a bullet in his head. The shot is clean. Point-blank. His body hits the floor before he even knows he’s dead.
Pyotr is already an afterthought as I scoop Stella into my arms as gently as I can manage. Her head lolls against my shoulder, and something feral rips straight through my chest.
“Clean this mess up, Lev,” I bark, needing to get Stella into the plane to verify the extent of her injuries. “Kira, come with me.”
Thankfully, Kira doesn’t fight me on it and willingly follows my command. We’re almost to the stairs when headlights slash through the dark, and a familiar SUV enters the hangar. I don’t need to see the driver to know it must be Luciano, coming to rescue Kira and Stella.
“Deal with that,” I order with a bite.
Lev raises his weapon too late, since Kira lunges at him, shoving Lev back with all her might, just as Luciano tears onto the scene like a rabid dog.
“Let her go, Kirill!” he screams, gun raised.
I’m holding the woman I love, bleeding, maybe dying, and he’s yelling at me like a child denied a toy.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” I say smoothly, trying to stay calm, or I’ll end up putting a bullet in his skull, too, if he doesn’t let me tend to Stella.
“I’m not fucking around, Kirill. Let Frankie and my sister go!”
Annoyance tightens my throat. “And what are you going to do? Shoot me?”
Lucky answers me by shooting Lev in the leg. Good. He deserves much worse for letting Pyotr shoot my girl.
However, as Lucky continues to shout at me, demanding I let go of his sister, while somehow managing to put himself between Kira and me, my patience with him runs out.
“Frances,” I call out, because she’s the only other person I need on this plane right now. “If you want to know where you really came from—who your birth parents are—you’ll tell your boyfriend to lower his gun.”
That’s all she needs to hear to make her decision.
“Fuck. If Frankie’s going with you, then so am I,” Luciano shouts back, my patience with him microscopic now.
Since time is of the essence, I concede to his blackmail and quickly climb the stairs with Stella still in my arms.
“Thanks for the help, Kostya,” I curse at my brother the second I’m inside. “Didn’t think to lend a hand when a gun was being aimed at my head?”
“You looked like you had it covered,” he says, before his eyes land on my Stella. “Is that her?”
My grip tightens. “No,” I reply, tilting my chin to Kira trailing behind me.
Holy-shit recognition slams across Kostya’s face in an instant. “She looks just like—”
“I know.”
Still, he moves toward her like an idiot with no sense of boundaries.
“Wow. Never thought this day would come,” Kostya states, eyes wide.
Luciano bristles at the way Kostya takes in every inch of Kira’s face, completely captivated by the resemblance to our sister.
“And who the fuck are you?” Lucky asks, disgruntled.
“I’m that motherfucker’s brother, Konstantin. But you can call me Kostya.”
“Nice to meet you.” Kostya laughs at Kira’s unexpected friendly reply.
“Guess the intel was right. You really are a nun if you’re that polite to your kidnappers.”
“You’re not kidnapping me. I’m here of my own volition. You said you had information about my parents, so let’s hear it.”
God, the spine on her. Just like Katya.
“All in good time, plemyannitsa,” I say, the word rolling off my tongue with ease.
I wish I could enjoy being able to finally call her that, but right now, my mind isn’t on this happy reunion. It’s on Stella.
As if knowing the misery I’m in, Stella shifts faintly against me, and I go still, breath catching.
She’s too pale. Too cold. Too quiet.
I don’t have time for reunions. I need to make sure my Stella doesn’t fucking bleed out and die on me.
“Take a seat. Make yourselves comfortable. Kostya, tell the pilot we’re good to go,” I command, already moving toward the back of the plane where a small bedroom awaits.
But to my bitter chagrin, Kira and Luciano refuse to leave Stella alone with me, convinced I’ll hurt her, when all I want—all I need—is to save her.
Once I’m in the room, I lower Stella onto the mattress, praying that neither Kira nor Luciano sees how badly my hands are shaking.