32. Vadim
32
VADIM
I watch Lacey make one final change to the runway schedule, her brow furrowed in concentration.
She's made herself at home in my office, papers scattered across my desk detailing everything from the L.A. Fashion Week events to our safehouses throughout the city.
"These twelve locations." I tap the map. "Will be converted to safe houses. Each can house up to a hundred people comfortably while we arrange transport back to their homes."
"What about the buyers?" Lacey looks up at me, her amber-flecked eyes holding that familiar determination I've come to cherish.
I slide over a thick folder.
"Mostly politicians. The kind who thinks their position puts them above the law." My jaw clenches. "They'll learn soon enough."
"And Kirsan?" Her voice catches slightly on his name. "Will he be there?"
"He will." I move behind her chair, resting my hands on her shoulders. She leans back into my touch. "He likes to personally talk to potential buyers about his 'merchandise.' Which means he'll be at the main runway shows, pointing out which models are for sale."
"Using the runway as a catalog." Lacey's shoulders tense under my fingers. "It's sick."
"It is." I massage the tension from her muscles. "But it makes him predictable. We know exactly where he'll be and when."
"How many potential buyers are we looking at?"
"Forty-three confirmed so far. Senators, judges, and CEOs." I reach past her to spread out their photos. "Every one of them untouchable."
"Until now." There's steel in her voice that makes my heart swell with pride.
"Until now," I agree, letting my hands slide from her shoulders. "These men have operated without consequence for far too long."
I move to perch on the edge of my desk, studying Lacey's neat handwriting on the runway layouts.
"Have you thought about who will walk for Eleftheria?"
"I have." Lacey's voice holds that quiet determination that both thrills and terrifies me.
"Who?"
"Me."
"Absolutely not." The words come out harsher than intended. "You're carrying our child. I won't put either of you at risk. Especially since we know Kirsan will be there."
"But it has to be me." She stands, one hand unconsciously moving to her slightly rounded belly. "Think about it, Vadim. You killed his daughter. He needs to see someone that will make him react with emotion rather than logic."
My jaw clenches. "But?—"
"Who else can get that reaction from him?" She steps closer, taking my hands in hers. "Sayanaa is dead. I'm the only one who can make him lose control."
" Zvyozdochka ..." I start to protest, but she presses a finger to my lips.
"You know I'm right. We need him emotional, irrational. What better way than having your pregnant wife—the woman his daughter failed to break—walking that runway?"
I close my eyes, hating that her logic is sound. The thought of her anywhere near Kirsan makes my blood run cold, but she's right. Nothing else would provoke such a visceral response from him.
"We could ask any of the women we rescued," I suggest, knowing it's a weak argument even as I make it. "Taliya has already proven?—"
"No." Lacey's voice is firm. "I won't ask them to face their abusers. Not when those wounds are still so fresh."
Her words sound familiar, and it takes me a moment before I realize that they're practically the same as mine to Demyon all those months ago.
He'd suggested using Irina as the fake bride in Paris, arguing that she knew the most about fashion and would be the most convincing.
I'd refused his suggestion for the exact same reason Lacey is refusing mine now.
We're both trying to protect others while willingly putting ourselves in danger. I know that the same determination I felt when I insisted on using someone—anyone—other than Irina is also there in her heart.
"You're doing exactly what I did," I murmur, brushing my thumb across her cheek. "Protecting others at your own risk."
"Just like you would." She leans into my touch. "Just like you did ."
I close my eyes, remembering Irina's bright smile, her endless enthusiasm. How even after everything Kirsan did to her, she still wanted to help others escape that fate.
But I also remember how her body crumpled in death. The inconsolable scream of anguish from Lacey when Irina's body entered the fires of the crematorium upon our return to Seattle.
If Lacey met that same fate, I will never forgive myself.
"We can find another way," I say softly.
"No." Lacey's hand covers mine. "We can't. This is the best way, and you know it."
"You're right," I concede, even as my heart rebels against the words. "But we'll need extensive security measures. Nothing left to chance."
"Of course." Lacey squeezes my hands. "And this is as good of a time as any to have Megan's bring Svoboda's true purpose to light. Couple the fear you'll strike into the hearts of the monster with the hope that Svoboda will bring."
"And the industry won't be able to look away," I finish her thought. My mind races through the possibilities.
"Exactly." Lacey steps closer, her belly pressing against me. "Megan can release everything—the interviews, the evidence, all of it—right as the operation concludes. The industry will have to address what's happening in their shadows."
"It's perfect." I pull her closer, breathing in her citrus-lavender scent. My hand splays protectively over our daughter.
"Let's go talk to Megan now." Lacey looks up at me. "She's been sitting on this release for weeks."
I nod slowly, though my protective instincts still scream against putting Lacey anywhere near Kirsan.
" Zvyozdochka ," I say. "Promise me one thing?"
"What?"
"If at any point I say it's too dangerous for you to do this, promise me that you'll listen and back out. I don't want to lose you."
Lacey looks at me, her eyes swimming with emotion. Slowly, she nods, and I feel tension slowly uncoiling in my shoulders. Not completely gone, of course. But enough to feel like I can breathe again.
"Okay," she whispers, pressing a kiss to my jaw. "Now come on, let's go talk to Megan."
I let her lead me from the office, my mind already planning additional security measures. I'll need to coordinate with Demyon, arrange for more men. Nothing can go wrong.
Not with both my wife and daughter's lives at stake.
"Are you both out of your fucking minds?" Megan springs up from her chair the moment we stop talking. "She's pregnant !"
"Megan—" Lacey starts, but Megan cuts her off.
"No. Abso-fucking-lutely not." Her eyes lock onto mine, blazing with fury. "How dare you even consider putting my sister in danger like this? Haven't you done enough?"
"This wasn't his idea, Meg!" Lacey interjects. "It was mine."
"Bullshit." Megan's hands ball into fists. "He's manipulating you, can't you see that? First the marriage, now this?"
I feel my jaw clench but force myself to remain silent. This isn't my fight.
"Nobody is manipulating me." Lacey's voice carries that steel edge I've come to know so well. "I chose this. All of it."
"You're pregnant, Lacey!" Megan's voice cracks. "You can't just put yourself out there like this! There has to be another way."
"There isn't." Lacey moves to take her sister's hands. "Believe me, if there was, we'd be doing that, but there just isn't. We need Kirsan emotional and irrational. And I'm the only person who can get him to act that way."
"Lacey, don't do this." Megan's voice breaks. "I'm begging you. Please don't do this. I don't want to lose you."
"You won't." Lacey pulls her sister into an embrace. "I promise."
"How can you be so sure?" Megan pulls back to look at Lacey. "How do you know you'll come back?"
"Because Vadim will be there." Lacey's voice holds absolute conviction. "He'll protect me."
Megan's skeptical gaze shifts to me. "Like he protected Irina?"
The words hit like a physical blow. I force myself to meet her eyes, seeing the same fierce protectiveness for Lacey that I feel burning in them.
"That's not fair," Lacey says softly. "What happened to Irina wasn't Vadim's fault."
"Isn't it?" Megan's voice is sharp. "He put her in danger. Just like he's putting you in danger now."
"Megan, I told you." Lacey shakes her head. " I'm choosing this. And Vadim will keep me safe."
"You keep saying that." Megan's hands ball into fists. "But you don't fucking know, Lace! Nobody knows!"
I watch the sisters' exchange, feeling like an intruder in their intimate moment.
"I'm not changing my mind, Meg." Lacey's voice soft but unyielding. "What we need from you is to focus on your part. Getting the truth out there about what Svoboda really does."
Megan runs her hands through her short black hair, clearly frustrated. "Fine. I'll write about how Svoboda helps trafficking victims escape. How you give them jobs, dignity, a chance at a real life." She looks between us. "But I still think what you're doing is a terrible idea."
"I know." Lacey reaches for her sister's hand. "But you know me. Once I set my mind to something..."
"Nothing will stop you." Megan's shoulders slump in defeat. "God, you're the most stubborn person I know. Always have been." She squeezes Lacey's hand before letting go. "Can I talk to your husband alone for a minute?"
Lacey glances at me, concern flickering across her face. I give her a slight nod.
She presses a quick kiss to my cheek before heading to the door. "Try not to kill each other."
The door closes behind her with a soft click, leaving me alone with my sister-in-law's piercing gaze. I've faced down countless enemies without flinching, but something about Megan's protective fury makes me want to look away.
"Well?" I keep my voice steady. "What did you want to say to me?"
As soon as the door closes, Megan rounds on me. "If anything fucking happens to my sister or my niece in Los Angeles, there won't be a place on Earth where you can hide from me."
"I know." I meet her fierce gaze.
"I mean it, Vadim! Not your army of killers, not your fucking money, not even that big blond boy toy of yours will keep you safe from what I'll do to you."
My lips twitch at her description of Demyon. "That last part felt unnecessarily specific."
"Don't fucking change the subject." A hint of color touches her cheeks. "This is about Lacey."
"It is." I soften my voice. "Don't forget, the child she's carrying is my daughter too, Megan. I will protect them both with my life."
"You better." She crosses her arms. "Because if anything happens to either of them?—"
"Nothing will happen to them." I cut her off. "I give you my word."
"Your word?" She arches an eyebrow. "The word of a fucking criminal?"
I recoil at the venomous way she spits that word out.
"The word of a father." I correct her. "And the word of a husband who loves your sister more than his own life. I will keep them safe. Both of them."
I find Lacey in our bedroom, staring out at the distant Seattle skyline through rain-streaked windows. Her hand rests protectively over our daughter, and the sight makes my heart clench.
"Your sister's right, you know." I move behind her, wrapping my arms around her. "This is incredibly dangerous."
"I know." She leans back against my chest. "But it's the right thing to do."
"The right thing to do would be keeping you and our daughter safe." My hand covers hers on her belly. "Far away from Kirsan."
"And what about all those other daughters?" She turns in my arms. "The ones he's selling in the open?"
The fierce determination in her eyes takes my breath away. Here she is, carrying our child, and still thinking about how to protect others.
"You're the most impressive person I've ever met," I tell her, meaning every word. "Do you know that?"
"Stop trying to distract me." But her lips curve into a smile.
"I'm not." I cup her face. "You're incredible, zvyozdochka . The way you fight for others, the way you refuse to look away from injustice..." My voice catches. "But I'm terrified of losing you."
"You won't lose me." She covers my hand with hers. "I trust you to keep us safe."
"What if I can't?" The fear that's been gnawing at me finally breaks free. "What if Megan is right? What if something goes wrong, like it did with Irina? I love you too much to watch you die."
"Then we'll make sure nothing goes wrong." She pulls me down until our foreheads touch. "Together."
I close my eyes, breathing in her familiar citrus-lavender scent. "I love you. Both of you. More than anything in this world."
"I love you too," Lacey whispers before pressing her lips against mine. "I love you so much."
Her kiss starts gentle but quickly deepens with need. My hands roam her body, memorizing every curve, every subtle change that the pregnancy has brought. Her breasts are fuller, more sensitive. Her belly has the slightest swell.
But there's a gnawing dread I can't shake. What if this is the last time I get to hold her like this? What if Kirsan?—
"Stop thinking so much," Lacey murmurs, nipping at my lower lip. "I can feel you getting lost in your head."
"I can't help it." My voice is rough with emotion. "If anything happens to you?—"
"Nothing will happen." She cups my face, forcing me to meet her gaze. "Focus on the now. On this moment. Right now, we're here. Together and safe."
Her words strike true, anchoring me to the present. I capture her mouth in a desperate kiss, pouring everything I feel into it. She matches my intensity, her fingers threading through my hair as she guides me towards our bed.
I trail kisses down her neck, overwhelmed by the need to taste every inch of her skin, to burn the memory of her into my very soul. Her quiet gasps and sighs urge me on as my hands slide under her shirt, finding the warm silk of her skin.
"Make love to me, Vadim," she whispers. "So that I'll always remember this moment."