Page 127 of Vicious Games

When the bell rings, announcing the end of class, I hurry to pack my things and leave.

“Frances,” Mother Superior says sharply before I can get out the door, flipping my quiz to Sister Agnes as if it were tainted. “Stay.” My stomach churns at the threat in her eyes.

I freeze, watching the rest of the class around me shuffle out while Lucky lingers at the door, his brow creased, eyes flicking between Sister Margaretta and me, unsure if he should step in or stay out of it. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. His jaw tightens, and I know exactly what he’s thinking because I’m thinking the same thing—if I don’t do well on this pop quiz, that’s the end of our stolen time together. Sister Margaretta will make sure of it.

Just as he’s about to say something, Sister Margaretta moves toward the door and shuts it slowly, deliberately, never once breaking eye contact with him. The click of the latch feels louder than it should.

“Sit, Frances,” Sister Margaretta orders, her back still turned to me, “You’re going to be here a while.”

I drop into the first empty seat I can find, hunching slightly.

Sister Agnes grades my quiz, and a moment later, she lights up.

“Oh, Frankie!” she says, beaming as she hands the paper to Sister Margaretta. “Luciano’s tutoring is really paying off. You got a B. A solid B. Great job!” But the way Sister Margaretta snatches it out of her hands, her eyes examining the answers, unable to find anything to scold, makes my blood run cold.

She frowns. Not because the grade is bad. But because it’s good. Too good.

“Are you not pleased, Mother Superior?” I ask, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

“Honestly? No,” she says flatly. “Nothing about this pleases me.”

Sister Agnes looks taken aback, lips parting as if she wanted to object but didn’t dare.

“But I suppose I must take comfort in the belief that God has a plan for you,” Sister Margaretta continues. “No matter how much I disagree with it.” Then she drops the quiz on the desk and takes three steps toward me, her gaze hardening. “Or perhaps it isn’t God’s will at all. Perhaps it’s the Devil tempting you off your path. We shall see soon enough, I fear.”

And with that remark, she turns on her heel and leaves the room.

I sit there, stunned, heart racing.

Because that? That wasn’t just judgment.

That felt like a curse.

One she believes I won’t be able to outrun.

Chapter 21

Luciano

“I still say this is a bad idea,” Enzo mutters from the back seat, eyeing the run-down buildings as if they were about to reach out and drag him inside.

“Really? I thought you idiots were supposed to be geniuses who don’t have bad ideas,” Stella taunts from the passenger seat, lazily filing her nails as if we were parked outside a salon instead of being deep inside Little Russia.

Enzo leans forward between the headrests, giving me a look. “It’s not Lucky’s head doing the thinking here. Hence why it’s a bad fucking idea.”

“If you say it’s his dick, I’m going to barf,” Stella says, screwing up her whole face in disgust.

“Worse,” Enzo sighs. “It’s his heart.”

“Will you two just shut up?” I snap. “I could’ve done this on my own if you were going to be assholes about it.”

“Yeah, like hell I was letting you come to Little Russia alone,” Enzo says, sinking back into the seat.

“Fine, whatever. But did you really have to bringher?”

“Hey!” Stella shrieks so loudly it nearly blows out my eardrum.

“I had to,” Enzo says with a shrug I catch in the rearview mirror. “She’s the muscle if things go sideways.”

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