Page 192 of Vicious Games

His eyes go wide, stunned into silence just as the plane engines begin to rumble.

“Go, Frankie. Or you’re going to miss your flight,” Kostya says, tossing me a wink.

Uncle Misha is still stunned speechless when I hug him and each of my uncles goodbye, and then I’m running—sprinting down the tarmac like a woman possessed, praying no one closes the door on me.

I’m halfway there when I realize what I’m doing. I’m running to tell the boy I’m in love with that even a day apart from him is too much to bear in this full-on rom-com moment.

Goddammit, Lucky. Look what you’ve turned me into. I’m a cliché now.

And yet I’m still grinning, and I can’t stop.

The grin only grows when I see Lucky coming to the door and then racing down the stairs—his face mirroring mine, lit up and tear-streaked.

When I’m close enough, I launch myself into his arms and he catches me with ease, holding me like he never intends to let go again.

“Jesus Christ, Frankie. For a second there, I thought I was gonna have to defect to Russia.”

Laughter bubbles out of me between tears, and my heart sings when I see his tears falling too.

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” I whisper.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re here now. That’s all that matters.” He lifts my chin and kisses me, slow and sure, like he’s memorizing the shape of our love.

And just like that, nothing else matters.

Just us.

“Let’s go home.”

Epilogue

Frances

Six months later

The sun is warm on my shoulders, and the light breeze rustles the rows of folding chairs lined up on the football field of Sacred Heart Academy. Somewhere behind me, someone’s cap is already sliding off their head and giggles flow through the sea of students.

But I remain perfectly still while Lucky’s hand squeezes mine every so often, his non-verbal reminder that he’s in this with me all the way.

Sister Margaretta stands at the front podium, her voice, clear and bright, carrying across the field with expert ease.

“Today is not only a day of endings,” she says, her smile soft and proud, “but of beginnings. You step out not just as graduates, but as young women and men who have seen the world for what it is and chosen to meet it with grace, courage, and yes, maybe a little bit of holy mischief, too.”

Laughter ripples through the crowd, followed by a few whistles when Sister Margaretta tosses a wink in our direction, her smile landing directly on the man standing beside me.

Lucky.

My Lucky.

Their relationship used to be… complicated, to say the least. But somehow, all of that tension melted away the day Lucky brought me home from Russia, safe and sound.

I remember how my heart pounded at the thought of telling her everything—what had happened, what I’d been through, and what kind of life I was about to choose for myself. I thought she’d be disappointed. I thought I’d let her down.

But the second I stepped into St. Mary’s Orphanage, Sister Margaretta didn’t seem to care about any of it. She ran to me, arms open, and pulled me into one of those warm, crushing hugs I’d missed so much. The kind of hugs she used to give me as a child. She was just happy I was safe and back in Chicago.

Apparently, Lucky’s mother had been keeping her updated the whole time—at least, the edited version. Selene Romano left out the part about me being kidnapped by Russian mobsters and discovering my biological family runs a criminal empire, but she gave Sister Margaretta just enough to keep her from spiraling due to my absence.

And to my utter shock, Sister Margaretta didn’t even bat an eye when I told her I wasn’t joining the convent—that I’d been accepted into culinary school and was moving into an apartment Uncle Misha got me in the city.

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