Chapter 25
Kirill
Love makes you do strange things.
When Stella broke up with me outside Mercy Hospital, my first thought was that at least the location was convenient, since I was pretty sure I was about to bleed out from having my heart ripped out of my chest.
But I didn’t die that day. Nor the days that followed, even if I did feel death’s cold grip around my very soul, strangling me the entire time.
No. By some miracle I survived, even if barely.
All because I held out hope.
There is that pesky word again. Hope. Such a dangerous thing to have, and yet the only thing keeping my world from collapsing.
After the initial shock of that day’s events, I told myself that all my woman needed was some time. Time and clarity. Soon she would see that ending things with me was a moot point. You can’t end our love with mere words. You can only delay it for a while.
So I gave her time.
I gave her distance.
I gave her enough space for her to cool down until the shock of her father’s shooting wore off. That had been the trigger after all. The thing that pushed her to end things with me. Once life got back to normal, and she felt the heavy effects of my absence, she would come to me.
She would see the light and come running back into my arms.
But she hasn’t.
It’s been two months, one week, four days and exactly thirteen hours and seventeen minutes that she stubbornly held her ground and refused to go back on her decision.
So that’s why I’m here. At her family’s illustrious mansion on her induction day to remind her that she can’t run away from love. No matter how much she tries to push me out of her life, I will always be here fighting for us. Fighting for our love. For our future together.
“Kirill? I wasn’t aware you received an invitation to my daughter’s graduation party,” Vincent states, clearly ticked off with my unexpected presence here.
I mean, I get why he’s pissed. A Bratva underboss crashing the Outfit’s most sacred tradition as is the Omertá ceremony? Unheard of.
Tough shit, Vincent. Wild fucking horses couldn’t keep me away.
Not today. Not on one of the most important days of Stella’s life. Deal with it.
But I don’t say that. Instead, I gift him my trademark smirk and pretend to be completely unbothered by the venom polluting his gaze.
“And you’d be correct. I didn’t get an invitation.
Not officially, anyway. But we’re business partners, after all, so I assumed my invitation got lost in the mail.
Isn’t that how it always goes?” I taunt, turning my attention to his wife and laying on the charm.
“Selene, you look lovely as always.” Then my eyes drift on their own accord to Stella standing beside her, my heart flipping in my chest at the very sight of her.
“But I dare say your daughter outshines you today.”
“As she should,” Selene replies, watching me closely. “My Stella always outshines everyone in any room she’s in.”
“On that, we completely agree,” I croon, taking Stella’s hand and brushing a sweet kiss across her knuckles, certain my heart might split open my chest and throw itself into her palm.
“Kirill,” she greets curtly. “What an unpleasant surprise.”
But it’s all for show.
The way her emerald eyes sparkle, and the goosebumps that start to rise along her arm from just one tender kiss, tell me she’s more than happy to see me. I flash her a wolfish grin and discreetly lean in close until my lips are just a breath away from her ear.
“Now, now, milaya. Just because you broke my heart doesn’t mean I wouldn’t show up for the day of your crowning.”
When I pull back, her green eyes have morphed into pools of want and desire.
“Well, I suppose I’ll go off and mingle.
Don’t want to keep the hosts all to myself.
” I flash a polite smile at Vincent and Selene, before turning my focus on my woman yet again.
“And Stella, I hope you’ll save me a dance later to celebrate the occasion.
I might be a little rusty since I’ve been out of practice, but I’m sure we’ll figure it out. ”
Stella is about to say something in return, only to be silenced when she hears my niece call out my name.
“Uncle Kirill, I can’t believe you’re here!” Kira says excitedly, throwing her arms around my waist while her boyfriend trails behind her, throwing daggers my way.
“Of course I’m here. I wouldn’t miss it,” I say, throwing a wink over at Stella before letting Kira walk me deeper into the room, weaving through guests whose jaws have practically hit the floor at seeing me here.
But none of that matters,
Not when I saw as clear as day that Stella still loves me. Even if she still refuses to admit it.
Yes…hope has a way of mending all broken things. Even hearts.
I barely hear what Kira says, as we keep strolling through the room, since my mind is still processing seeing Stella after all this time.
I meant it when I said Stella is the most beautiful woman in this room, but I’d be remiss if I ignored the deep shadows under her eyes that she tried to conceal with makeup, or the way her dress looks a bit looser on her frame than it ought to be.
All the marks of sleepless nights and sad, lonely days.
I should know, since I’m wearing the same badges myself.
“Is Kostya coming too?” Kira asks, only for Lucky to scoff. “What?”
“Baby, I love you, but one uncle at this party is enough, isn’t it?” Lucky replies, his chestnut eyes almost pleading with her.
“But I like it when we all get along. If Uncle Kirill is here, I don’t see why Kostya couldn’t come too?”
“Fuck my life,” he curses under his breath and then stares at me. “You want to tell her?” he says, purposely leaving out the ‘asshole’ at the end for Kira’s sake.
“Someone had to stay back at the riverboat. You know we don’t have days off. Someone has to stay on top of things,” I lie.
The truth is, Kostya tried his best to talk me out of coming here today.
He said I should’ve waited until tomorrow to approach Stella at the casino, where it would be safer, rather than crash her party and face the full weight of the Outfit.
My brother thinks I have a death wish. And maybe I do.
Because loving Stella Romano is like holding a blade to my own throat and daring her to pull me closer.
I couldn’t wait another day to feel that pinprick against my skin.
I’d gone too many days without its heat brushing up against me already.
“I guess that makes sense.” Kira chews her bottom lip. “Maybe one day I’ll be able to get my whole family under one roof. Right?” She looks over at Lucky first, who immediately softens for her.
“Sure, baby. Maybe one day,” he coos softly, pressing a sweet kiss to her lips.
Poor kid is so in love that he might actually mean it—that somewhere in the distant future, the Petrovs and the Romanos could coexist and sit in the same room as an actual family.
Thing is, Kira’s wish to have both families united mimics my own hopes and dreams.
Hers through Lucky.
Mine through Stella.
Different paths to the same impossible aspiration.
“Let’s just get through this party first, okay?” Lucky adds, brushing the tip of his nose over the length of his girlfriend’s.
Envy hits me hard at seeing Kira—a Petrov—and Lucky—a Romano—being light years ahead of me and Stella. They get to love each other openly, without caring who sees them, while Stella and I still have to hide ours. And in Stella’s case, hide it even from herself.
I swear to God, if Lucky marries my niece before I get a chance to walk Stella down the aisle, I’ll be extremely annoyed.
“Oh! There’s Marcello and Izzie. Let’s go and say hi,” Kira says, pulling a reluctant Lucky away.
“Baby, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Your uncle and my brother don’t exactly get along.”
“Then what a perfect opportunity to start mending some fences, is it not?” I goad, a smug smirk tugging at my lips as I lock eyes with Marcello Romano standing in the corner of the room.
It’s fair to say that our first and only interaction back at my club didn’t exactly go off without a hitch.
He’s been avoiding me, along with anything to do with my business dealings with his father, ever since.
A fact I intend to remedy. If I really want to be in Stella’s life, I’ll have to get along with her brothers eventually. Why not start now?
“You Romanos throw terrible parties,” I say in lieu of a greeting, before swiping a flute of champagne and downing it in one gulp, frowning slightly at the sweetness of the bubbly liquid.
What is it with these elitist types who always have champagne flowing but never any fucking vodka?
“Ironic. Since I don’t recall my mother putting your name on the guest list,” Marcello replies, not bothering to hide his distaste at my being here.
Here I am trying to offer him an olive branch, and the fucker refuses to see it for what it is.
“I figured it was implied,” I mock, lowering myself to his level, “seeing as everyone here is celebrating my girl.”
I watch in utter delight as his girlfriend, Isobel, tightens her grip on his arm to keep him from unleashing his hate on me. But when Kira steps between us, reminding me of my real goal, that’s when I stop myself from pushing Marcello’s buttons any further.
“Uncle. Marcello. Please be nice. Let’s not ruin the day for Stella. Besides, we’re all family here.”
“He might be your uncle, Frankie. But he’s no family of mine.” Marcello scoffs.
“Yet,” I add, making my intentions clear.
You will be my brother, Marcello. Maybe not by blood, but definitely by law.
Those words scratch at the back of my throat, but I swallow them down and turn my attention to the woman who still keeps her leash wrapped tightly around him.
“So the rumors are true. You bagged yourself a Fed.”
“Former Fed. I don’t work for the FBI anymore,” Isobel says, her spine going ramrod straight.
“Good timing, too. Since I was planning to kill you next time I saw you.” I wink at her.
“Uncle!” Kira gasps at my honesty.