35. Lacey
35
LACEY
I watch as the crew loads racks of clothing onto the Gulfstream—each piece a weapon in our arsenal against Kirsan. My hand drifts to my belly, now noticeably rounded at four months as a flutter of movement passes through my stomach.
"The last time we boarded this jet, we lost Irina." The words catch in my throat. "I keep wondering who I'll lose this time."
" Zvyozdochka ." Vadim's voice is gentle as his arms encircle me from behind. "We can still call this off. No one would blame you."
I lean back against his solid warmth, drawing strength from his presence.
"I'm not backing out," I say firmly, even as fear gnaws at my insides. "We have to end this. For Irina. For Taliya. For all the others."
Vadim's breath is warm against my neck as he sighs. "You're the bravest person I know, zvyozdochka . But you don't have to prove anything."
I turn in his arms to face him, seeing the concern etched in those storm-gray eyes. "I'm not trying to prove anything. I'm trying to protect our daughter's future." My fingers find his jaw. "Our future."
The sound of the cargo hold closing makes me jump. Vadim's arms tighten around me instinctively, and I force myself to breathe. Fear is a constant companion now, but I refuse to let it control me.
"Are you ready?" he asks, searching my face.
I'm not. Not really.
But I nod anyway because some things are worth being afraid for.
The jet reaches cruising altitude and I stare out the window at the endless sea of clouds, trying to quiet the storm of fears in my mind. My hand drifts to my rounded belly where Larina kicks again, as if sensing my anxiety.
"I'm terrified," I whisper, finally voicing the truth I've been holding back. "Not just for me, but for her." My voice catches. "What if something goes wrong? What if?—"
Strong arms wrap around me from behind as Vadim pulls me against his chest. His warmth seeps into me, steadying my racing thoughts.
"Nothing will happen to either of you," he murmurs, his hand covering mine where it rests on my belly. "I swear it on my life."
"Megan's right. You can't guarantee that." The words come out sharper than I intend.
I feel him tense behind me, but his voice remains gentle. "No, I can't. But things are different now. I'm different." His fingers lace through mine. "I was fighting alone then. Now I have something—someone—worth protecting."
Another flutter of movement beneath our joined hands makes me catch my breath. Vadim's thumb strokes gentle circles against my skin.
"Feel that?" he asks softly. "That's our daughter telling us she believes in us. Both of us."
Despite everything, a small smile tugs at my lips. "Or maybe she's telling us we're both crazy for doing this."
His quiet chuckle rumbles against my back. "Perhaps. But she's half you, zvyozdochka . Being crazy brave is in her blood."
I lean back into his embrace, letting his steady presence anchor me. The fear isn't gone—I doubt it ever will be until this is over—but it feels more manageable now, less overwhelming.
"There's something else," I admit, turning to face him. "What if this isn't enough? What if we do everything right, take down Kirsan, expose everything... and nothing changes?" My voice catches. "What if the world just keeps turning like it always has, with new monsters rising to take his place?"
Vadim's fingers brush my cheek, tilting my face up to his. "Change doesn't happen in a single moment, zvyozdochka . It comes slowly, piece by piece."
"But—"
"Think about what's already different," he continues. "The police are cleaning house. Megan's stories are reaching millions. And that's just the big picture." His hand strokes the back of mine. "Closer at home, and you can see Taliya finding her voice again as she rediscovers what it means to live." His hand drops to my belly. "And here, growing inside you, is proof that even in the darkest places, something beautiful can be made."
I cover his hand with mine, feeling Larina's gentle movements. "I just need to know it means something. That all of the bloodshed and violence wasn't for nothing."
"It will mean everything," he says firmly. "Maybe not tomorrow or next week. But every woman we save, every trafficker we stop, every corrupt official we expose—it adds up. Like drops of water wearing away stone. And then we'll spend the rest of our lives together knowing that we made a difference."
His certainty steadies me.
"Promise?"
"I promise." He presses a kiss to my forehead. "And when have I ever broken a promise to you?"
Three hours later, the lights of Los Angeles stretch beneath us as we begin our descent. Larina's tiny kicks continue fluttering in my belly.
Almost as if she can sense just how nervous I am.
The drive from LAX to our hotel passes in a blur of palm trees and neon signs. I grip Vadim's hand tightly, drawing strength from his steady presence. Just as we pull up to the hotel entrance, his phone rings.
"Understood," he answers, his voice dropping into that dangerous timbre that means business. His expression shifts as he listens, and I catch fragments of Russian mixed with English. "How many?... Good... Keep them safe."
My breath catches.
The rescue operations have already begun.
And the week's events haven't even started yet.
"Twenty-three women rescued from near Long Beach," he tells me after hanging up. "Some as young as fifteen." His jaw clenches. "They were in the midst of being prepared for sale when my men found them."
Bile rises in my throat, but I force it down. This is why we're here. This is what makes it worth the risk.
"I want to see the venue," I say, my voice steadier than I expect. "We should check it before tomorrow, make sure everything's exactly how we need it."
Vadim studies my face. "Are you certain? You should rest first..."
"I'm sure." I squeeze his hand. "The more prepared we are, the better chance we have of pulling this off."
I don't add that I probably couldn't sleep anyway, not with the upcoming week looming over us.
He nods slowly. "I'll have the car take us there now."
As we drive toward the venue, I think about those twenty-three women.
No, not women. Girls.
They're safe because of what we started. Whatever happens next, we've already made a difference. That thought steadies me more than anything else could.
"I used to dream about this," I whisper, watching the bright lights of downtown L.A. blur past our window. "Every year when Fashion Week came around, I'd spend hours watching the livestreams, imagining what it would be like to be here."
Vadim's hand finds mine in the darkness of the car. "And now?"
"Now..." I trail off, trying to find the right words. "Now I realize how na?ve those dreams were. But I'm still grateful." I turn to face him. "Thank you for making this possible, even if it meant showing me the darker side of the industry I loved."
His thumb traces circles on my palm. "I should be thanking you, zvyozdochka . You never gave up on me, even when I gave you every reason to."
"I couldn't," I admit softly. "Not when I saw the good in you fighting to get out."
The venue appears ahead of us, its modernist glass facade gleaming under spotlights. Something tightens in my chest as I look at it.
"I can't shake this feeling," I say, my voice barely audible. "Like we're approaching the end of something."
Vadim's hand tightens on mine as the car rolls to a stop. His eyes search my face with concern, but before he can respond, the driver opens our door.
The warm Los Angeles air hits my face as we step out onto the curb and head inside.
Inside the venue, the catwalk stretches before me like a gleaming sword—beautiful but deadly. My heart pounds as I take in the stark white runway, imagining what will unfold here soon.
"Come," Vadim says softly, his hand steady at the small of my back as he guides me through the backstage area.
The space behind the runway is a maze of temporary walls and clothing racks. Even empty, I can feel the electric energy that will soon fill this space. Vadim shows me the exact spots where his men will be positioned, hidden among the chaos of the show.
"I'll be right there," he tells me, pointing to a spot in the front row. "Close enough to reach you in seconds if needed." His voice drops lower. "Close enough to protect you both."
My hand drifts to my belly instinctively as Larina gives another little fluttering kick. The thought of Vadim watching me, ready to keep us safe, sends an unexpected thrill through me.
"Will you walk for me, Lacey?" he asks suddenly. "Right now?"
I look up at him in surprise. "Here?"
He nods, his storm-gray eyes intense. "I want to see my wife own this runway before anyone else does."
The possessiveness in his voice makes heat pool low in my belly. I bite my lip, considering. It would be good practice, and something about the idea of walking just for him feels... right.
"Okay," I whisper.
His smile is both proud and predatory as he backs away toward the seats. "Show me what they'll all see, zvyozdochka ."
I take a deep breath and step onto the empty runway. The spotlights aren't on, but I can feel their ghostly presence above me. My hand brushes my belly for courage before I begin.
The first step feels like entering another world. My heels click against the gleaming surface as muscle memory from years of practicing in my room takes over.
Back straight, shoulders down, chin lifted just so.
But this isn't like any other walk I've done before. My eyes find Vadim's in the darkness and lock there, drawing strength from his intense gaze. The rest of the empty venue falls away until there's only him watching me move.
Each step feels more confident than the last. My hips sway naturally, and I let a hint of a smile play at my lips as I reach the end of the runway. The pause there feels electric as I hold Vadim's gaze for three heartbeats before making my turn.
The walk back is even better. I can feel his eyes burning into me, following every movement. When I reach the end, I step down and straight into his waiting arms.
" Zvyozdochka ," he breathes against my hair. "You were incredible up there. Like you were born for this."
I press closer, breathing in his familiar scent. "It felt... different than I expected. Better." My fingers curl into his jacket. "When we drove up, I couldn't shake this feeling that we were heading toward an ending. But now..."
"Now?" His hand strokes down my back.
"Now it feels like we're at the beginning of something amazing." I pull back just enough to see his face. "Like everything that came before was just preparing us for this moment."
His answering smile makes my heart skip. "Because they were.”