Page 187 of Vicious Games

Hmm.

Not once did Lucky—or any of his siblings—need to be escorted by bodyguards through Chicago. But here? It doesn’t feel safe unless you have them.

And suddenly I don’t feel safe.

Even surrounded by people who love me, it doesn’t feel safe.

Not because they’d hurt me.

But because their enemies might.

And something tells me my uncles have made plenty of enemies on their way up the Bratva ladder.

I’m about to take a seat next to my uncle Sasha when a nurse greets Elena and gently ushers her toward the doctor’s office. But before she goes, Elena turns to me. “Come with me, Kira,” she says softly.

I don’t have it in me to say no.

So I follow her inside, where the doctor and nurse greet her warmly in rapid-fire Russian and begin running through the usual tests.

My poor Aunt Elena.

To have to go through this every two weeks, just to make sure her treatment is still working. Just to make sure the cancer hasn’t spread further. I overheard Uncle Misha say she stopped chemo a few months ago. That so far, the results are… hopeful.

It must be terrifying, loving someone who’s so sick though.

Especially for someone like Uncle Misha—who looks like he could scare the devil himself if he put his mind to it. The fact that he can’t scare off this disease must feel like torture to him.

Still, Elena keeps smiling through all of it.

If it weren’t for her frail frame, you’d never know the hell her body has endured just to keep breathing.

A couple of hours later, we’re seated in the doctor’s office, waiting for him to return.

“I told Olga to make us some borscht and pelmeni for lunch,” Elena says, brushing imaginary lint from her skirt. “After the morning we’ve had, I’m sure you must be hungry.”

“I’m fine,Tetya.Really. Don’t worry about me.”

“How can I not? It’s a tedious affair, all these doctors and hospitals. But I promise that tomorrow, I’ll make it up to you.”

I smile and squeeze her hand. “I’m just happy to be here,Tetya.Truly.”

“Such a kind girl.” She lifts her delicate hand and cups my cheek. “You look so much like her. So much like our Katya.”

“Did… did you know my mom well?” I ask, my voice catching in my throat.

Elena nods, her smile wistful. “I know I don’t look it now, but when I was younger, I used to run wild after Misha and Sasha. Katya was like a big sister to me. Always had a kind word. Always checked on me whenever I didn’t come out to play with her brothers.”

“Why would she need to check on you?”

She smiles sadly, her thumb brushing my cheek. “Ah, sweet Kira. That’s a story for another day. I fear I’ve already ruined this one with all the needles and tests. Let’s not spoil it further with tales of old ghosts and misspent youth.”

I’m about to tell her that I don’t mind—that I’m actually curious about her life and how my mom and uncles were a part of it—when Elena’s doctor returns, speaking quickly in Russian.

I stay quiet, not understanding a word. But even though I don’t know what is being said, I do feel a shift in the room. For some reason, Elena’s doctor is not pleased. Not pleased at all.

The two of them speak rapidly, the doctor’s expression growing more troubled by the second, while Elena keeps her soft smile plastered on like it’s armor. And then she does something strange, that I pick up immediately. She places a hand over her belly, gently, protectively.

Not a moment later, she rises to her feet, even as the doctor continues talking to her in urgent tones.

---