9. Vadim
9
VADIM
"I'm sorry," she whispers, tears soaking into my shirt. "I'm so sorry."
"Don't apologize, mamechka ." I hold her closer. "You have nothing to apologize for."
When we finally break apart, her storm-gray eyes—the same ones I've stared into each time I look into a mirror—are red-rimmed but clear. Martin helps her settle onto the couch beside him. Serena perches on the armrest next to them, while Lacey's warm presence steadies me from my other side.
"Why are you here, Vadyusha?" Mother's voice is gentle now, so different from the cold terror of moments ago.
I exchange a look with Lacey, finding strength in her slight nod and encouraging smile. My hand finds hers, our fingers intertwining as I turn back to face my mother.
"Because," I begin, my heart thundering against my ribs. "You're going to be a grandmother."
Mom's hands fly to her mouth, her eyes widening with shock and joy. She looks to Lacey, searching for confirmation.
"It's true," Lacey says, her hand squeezing mine. "We just found out yesterday."
"How far along?" Mom leans forward, years seeming to melt away from her face. "Have you seen a doctor yet? Do you know if it's a boy or girl?"
"We don't know yet," Lacey answers, and I feel my chest tighten at the warmth in her voice. "We've just found out this morning."
"Are you taking care of yourself, dorogaya ?" Mom's brow furrows with concern. "Ginger tea helped me when I was carrying Serena."
Martin wraps an arm around her shoulders, and for the first time, I truly see how happy she is with him. How safe.
"Already fussing like a proper grandmother," he chuckles.
"Have you told anyone else?"
"Just my sister," Lacey says. "She's the one who figured it out, and made me take the test. That's why we came here today. We wanted you to know."
Mom's eyes glisten as she takes Lacey's hands in hers. "Thank you, dorogaya . Not just for this wonderful news, but for reminding me of who my Vadyusha is."
My chest tightens at hearing that name again after so many years. Lacey smiles, and I marvel at her quiet strength, her unwavering faith in me even when I doubt myself.
I can't help think about what I had told her all those weeks ago when I first brought her to Pankration.
"I know you'll fight and defend those who needs defending the most. When you were cornered, you didn't back down or beg for mercy. You fought even when you knew you couldn't win. That's why I need you, Lacey McKinney. That's why it can only be you."
And it's the truth.
"I never thought this day would come so soon." Mom's voice breaks. "I never imagined I would have this moment. To see my son happy, to know I'll be a grandmother."
Martin wraps his arm around her shoulders as she wipes her eyes. Serena beams at us from her perch on the armrest. They look so peaceful, so content. A proper family.
That's when a fresh cold realization hits me. This peace is fragile. Olga knows about this house, about Martin and Serena. And now that she's allied herself with Kirsan and Sayanaa, this sanctuary my mother built for herself isn't safe anymore.
I study Mother's face, seeing the light that Martin and Serena brought back to her eyes after years of darkness. The warmth of their modest home wraps around us like a protective blanket, but I know better than anyone how quickly safety can shatter.
Lacey must sense my tension because her thumb starts tracing soothing circles on my palm. Even now, she's trying to anchor me, to keep me from drowning in dark thoughts.
I clear my throat, hating how I must shatter this peaceful moment. "There's something else we need to discuss."
Mom's smile fades as she catches my tone. Even Serena straightens on her perch.
"Olga has allied herself with Sayanaa," I explain, directing this mainly to Martin. "They know about this place. About all of you."
"Sayanaa?" Martin's arm tightens protectively around Mom.
"Kirsan's daughter." I pause, choosing my words carefully.
"Let them come." Martin's voice hardens. "I can protect my family."
I study the man who gave my mother the peace she deserves, noting his powerful frame despite his age. While I don't doubt his sincerity or his ability, I also know that he can't be everywhere at once.
"Kirsan's organization is vast," I explain. "They have resources that one person can't deal with alone?—"
"I'm not going back there." Mom interrupts me.
A familiar terror creeping back into her eyes.
"I know, mamechka ." I nod. "And I wouldn't ask it of you. Instead, I want to ask you permission to put some of my men nearby. Far enough that you won't notice them, but close enough to respond if needed."
"Like guardian angels," Lacey adds softly beside me. "Just watching from a distance."
Martin exchanges a look with Mom before nodding slowly. "Some extra eyes couldn't hurt. And Vadim is right. I can't be everywhere at once."
I watch Mom wrestle with my offer, her hands twisting together in her lap. The silence stretches between us, broken only by the gentle ticking of a clock somewhere in the house.
I know what she's thinking about. To be placed under the watchful eyes of the very men that once roamed Pankration's suffocating halls… It's just another reminder of the hell she endured under Pyotr.
I brace myself for her inevitable refusal.
How could she possibly trust armed men watching her home after everything she's been through?
But then she lifts her chin, and those storm-gray eyes meet mine with an unexpected resolve.
"Yes," she says quietly. "You have my permission."
For a moment, I can't breathe.
"Are you sure, mamechka ?" I have to ask, even though every fiber of my being screams at me not to question this precious gift.
She nods, reaching for Martin's hand. "I trust you, Vadyusha." She swallows hard. "You're not him."
It's evening by the time we leave Lacey and I step outside, bidding Mom goodbye.
Before we reach the car, Martin's voice calls out. "Vadim, hold up a moment."
I turn to see him following us onto the porch. He gestures for me to join him.
"I'll wait in the car," Lacey says softly.
Martin's weathered face is solemn as I approach. His shoulders are tense, and his hands are stuffed in his pockets.
"Your mother..." he starts, then pauses to collect himself. "In all my years with her, she's never spoken once about what happened to her. Not once. Even on nights when she woke up screaming at the top of her voice. Whenever I asked, she'd just say it was a past that she wanted to forget."
"But hearing it today... Christ." The porch light casts deep shadows across his face. "I knew that it had to be something terrible, but this..." His voice breaks. "No wonder she flinches sometimes when I move too fast. Why certain things trigger panic attacks."
My throat tightens. "I'm sorry this is how you found out."
Martin shakes his head. "Don't apologize. What happened to her, to you both... that's on the monster who did it." He meets my eyes. "I'm just thankful you saved our daughter from that fate."
"No Martin. I should be thanking you," I tell him. "You gave my mother the life she deserves. You helped her build something beautiful."
"I'm glad you came back," Martin says, his voice gruff with emotion. "Your mother needed this. Hell, you needed this."
"If it weren't for my wife," I look toward the car where Lacey waits. "I'd still be..."
The words catch in my throat. Still be what? Still avoiding a mother who couldn't bear to look at me? Still letting the ghosts of Pankration keep us apart?
Martin follows my gaze, and shakes his head in admiration. "That's one hell of a woman you've got there. You're a lucky man to have her, just as I'm lucky to have your mother."
"I don't deserve her." The admission slips out before I can stop it.
"Don't you?" Martin's hand lands heavy on my shoulder. "She chose you. That's the funny thing about love. You can wake up every day thinking that you don't deserve someone, but it won't change how she feels about you. How she sees you."
Martin looks back at the house longingly.
"I felt the same way about your mother. Woke up every morning asking myself. How can someone like her ever want to spend forever with someone like me? A jaded Marine haunted by ghosts of the friends he's lost overseas. But she did. Hell, she still does."
The simple wisdom in his words resonates with me, and I mull over his words.
He chose to love my mother, knowing that something broke her. He helped her rebuild herself piece by piece with endless patience. He built a family with her.
And today, he accepted me without hesitation.
"Love's a funny thing, ain't it, son?"
"It is." I nod. "Thank you." I extend my hand. "For everything you've done. For her."
Instead of taking my hand, Martin pulls me into a fierce embrace. The gesture is so paternal, so genuine, and so unfamiliar that for a moment I'm overwhelmed by it.
"Don't be a stranger, son," he says as he releases me. "This is your family too."
Family . The word echoes in my chest as I walk to the car where Lacey waits.
And for the first time since I can remember, it doesn't feel like a curse.
The warmth in my heart lingers even as we step back into Pankration's cold marble halls. My heart still pounds from everything that happened at Mom's house.
The reconciliation feels surreal, like a dream I might wake from at any moment.
"Thank you, zvyozdochka ," I tell Lacey when we stop at the foot of the stairs. "For pushing me to do this." My voice catches. "For making me face her."
"I was happy to," she says, her amber-flecked eyes soft with understanding.
I take her hand in mine, my heart skipping as a familiar warmth starts spreading through me from the touch.
The same warmth I felt the first time she challenged me at Mrs. Klossner's. The same warmth that grew each time she showed me what real strength looks like.
The same warmth that I thought had been lost forever.
"You're amazing," I tell her, my thumb stroking over her knuckles. "I don't deserve how lucky I am to have you in my life."
"Vadim—" she starts to interject, but I shake my head.
"Let me finish," I say. "I'm the luckiest man alive to have you. You gave me back my mother. You gave me hope that I'm not destined to become him. You're carrying our child. And still, somehow, you look at me like..."
My voice trails off as I take a breath to steady myself.
"Like I'm worthy of you."
The glow in her eyes takes my breath away. All this time, I've been afraid that the chasm between us had grown too wide to cross. But standing here with her, feeling her pulse beneath my fingers, I know the truth.
"You're not just my wife or the mother of my child. You're my compass," I tell her, my voice rough with emotion. "When I lose my way, you guide me back. When darkness threatens to consume me, you shine brighter than any star, zvyozdochka. "
Her fingers tighten around mine. A blush creeps across her cheeks, but she doesn't look away.
"You're the strongest person I know," I continue. "Not because you never break, but because you choose to rebuild. You chose to stay after Paris. You chose to help continue Irina's work. You chose to face Sayanaa's cruelty with unwavering courage."
My free hand comes up to cradle her face. Her skin is warm against my palm as she leans into the touch.
"And now you've given me back something I never thought I'd have." I press my forehead to hers, breathing in her familiar citrus-lavender scent. "And in the process, gave me something I didn't dare think about having."
She trembles slightly against me, and I can see tears gathering in those remarkable eyes. But it's her smile that sets my heart beating even faster—a smile can light up even the darkest corners of Pankration's walls.
"And what's that?" she asks softly.
"Family."
Before she can speak, I capture her lips with mine. The familiar taste of her floods my senses as I pull her closer, one hand sliding into her hair while the other wraps around her waist. Her softness presses against me, igniting that ever-present spark between us into a roaring flame.
She melts into me with a small whimper that sends heat rushing through my veins. My tongue traces the seam of her lips, and she opens for me without hesitation. The warmth of her mouth matches the heat building in my core as our tongues meet and dance.
Every sweep of my tongue against hers draws out another of those intoxicating little sounds. My fingers tighten in her hair, tilting her head to deepen the kiss further.
To taste her .
To feel the feeling that I've been craving for the past three weeks.
Her hands fist in my shirt, pulling me even closer as if she can't bear to leave any space between us. I can feel her pulse racing on her fingers, matching the thundering pace of my own.
The sweet press of her curves against me makes my blood sing with need.
Heat blossoms between us, and the wall that has come up crumbles away.
When she arches into me with a breathy moan, I have to break the kiss to catch my breath. But I can't bring myself to pull away completely. My forehead rests against hers as we both pant softly, sharing the same air.
"Do you mean it?" Lacey whispers against my lips, her breath warm on my skin.
My heart thunders at the vulnerability in her voice. "Yes , zvyozdochka . Every word."
Her fingers trace along my jaw, sending electricity through my veins.
"Then take me to bed, Vadim," she breathes.
The need in her voice matches the hunger burning in my chest. Without hesitation, I sweep her into my arms. She lets out a small gasp of surprise that turns into a delighted giggle as her arms wind around my neck, pulling herself closer.
Her familiar scent of citrus and lavender fills my lungs as I carry her up the marble stairs. Her lips find my neck, pressing soft kisses that make my breath catch.
" Zvyozdochka ," I growl as she nips gently at my pulse point.
She hums against my skin. "Yes?"
"Keep that up and we won't make it to the bedroom."
Her answering laugh sends warmth flooding through me. "Promise?"
I tighten my grip on her as I climb the final steps. The weight of her in my arms feels right.
Like she belongs here.
Like she's always belonged there.