30. Vadim
30
VADIM
I watch Lacey and Olga return from their private conversation. My heart clenches at the haunted look in Lacey's amber-flecked eyes. Her usual spark has dimmed, replaced by something darker. More troubled.
My hands ball into fists at my sides. Every protective instinct screams at me to go to her, to chase away whatever shadows Olga has planted in her mind.
I watch Olga saunter toward the exit, her parting words hanging in the air like poison. "I will see you both at the wedding, bastard ."
The moment we are alone, Lacey whirls on me. Gone is the haunted look—replaced by blazing fury that makes her eyes spark like amber catching sunlight.
"Who is Sayanaa?"
My jaw clenches. Of course Olga would tell her about Sayanaa. "It's not what you think?—"
Lacey backs away from me, shaking her head. "What else haven't you told me?"
"Lacey—" I reach for her but she jerks away.
"You promised me honesty, Vadim." Her hands tremble as she touches Laura's necklace. "Instead, I find out from Olga that you were engaged to Kirsan’s daughter. Did you keep that from me because you think that I wouldn’t agree to this if I thought I was the other woman?”
My chest tightens at the pain in her voice. It's the same raw hurt I saw that first day at Mrs. Klossner's, when she stood there with Walker's ring stuck on her finger, fresh from finding out about the betrayal.
She's right. I promised her honesty, and I've been everything but completely honest.
The engagement to Sayanaa might have been arranged before I drew my first breath, but that's no excuse.
I should have told her everything from the start.
All I've done is drag her into this dangerous game without giving her all the pieces. Made her an unwitting player. Kept her in the dark under the excuse that it was the only way to keep her safe.
“Yes.” I step closer, and feel my heart squeeze at the way Lacey’s jaw drops to my response. “But also no. It’s complicated.”
“Then uncomplicate it.”
“I didn’t want to tell you about Sayanaa, not because I believed you would back out at the thought that you were the other woman.” I take a deep breath. “But because I wanted to keep you safe from knowing just what kind of person Sayanaa was. What kind of threat that she could pose to you.”
“And this whole time, you didn’t think that maybe I might want to know that?”
“I was trying to keep you safe.”
“If you wanted to keep me safe, you would’ve told me everything that I was up against.” She steps closer. “Everything that we would be up against.”
“You’re right. And I’m sorry for keeping that from you.”
“So.” Lacey’s eyes level at mine. “Will you tell me now?”
I draw in a deep breath, steadying myself, and nod. The weight of everything I'm about to reveal sits heavy in my chest.
"Pyotr and Kirsan were partners years ago." I start slowly.
"I know," she says. "Irina told me. Among other things."
My jaw tightens at the words.
Of course Irina told her. She must have told Lacey everything—from how her father was forced into Pyotr and Kirsan's service, to how she'd been sold anyways, and to how I saved her later, after it was too late.
The thought of Lacey knowing these dark chapters of my past fills me with an odd mixture of relief and shame.
Relief that she understands more of who I am, shame that I wasn't the one to tell her myself.
"Then you'll know that the two of them quickly recognized that the future of their operations was too precious to be split between two separate bratvas." I meet her gaze. "They needed to combine their empire in a way that would ensure a lasting alliance. But neither man wanted to give up their position as pakhan. So they came up with a compromise."
"Marriage." Lacey's voice is barely above a whisper. "They wanted to bind their families together through marriage."
“Exactly.” I nod. “But there were complications.”
"What kind of complications?"
“Olga had trouble conceiving. After years of trying, she finally gave birth to a boy. Slava."
"Slava?" Lacey's brow furrows. "But I've never seen him around Pankration. Or anywhere else for that matter."
The familiar rage burns in my chest as I force out the next words.
“Because Slava has been in a coma for decades.” My fists clench at my sides. “Pyotr caught Slava kissing another boy at the age of ten and beat Slava so severely that he’ll never leave that hospital bed.”
"His own son?" Lacey's hand flies to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror.
"Pyotr cared more about having the perfect heir than being a father." I force myself to relax my fists. "With Slava no longer able to be his heir, Pyotr became obsessed with having another son. Especially after Sayanaa was born. He started taking mistresses. But none of them gave him children either. The fool should've realized the problem was never the women, but him. That didn't stop him. He kept trying, believing that he needed someone younger with every woman he went through. Until…"
"Your mother." Lacey's voice turns softer.
“After Pyotr found me, he took me from her and brought me to Pankration. Raised me himself, grooming me to be exactly like him." My lip curls in disgust. "Every lesson, every punishment, every test was designed to shape me into his image. When I failed to live up to his image, he concluded that it was because I was being corrupted by someone soft. Someone that needed to be removed."
Lacey steps closer, her hand reaching for mine. "Is that why he sold Irina?"
I nod as the memories of that night rise to the surface of my mind. Pyotr demanded my presence in his office. When I arrived, he told me with a smile on his face that Irina had been sold so that I would no longer be held back by the weakness she inspired in me.
The whole time he talked, that self-satisfied smirk on Pyotr's face grew wider and wider.
As if he did something clever, and not something monstrous.
Lacey's fingers intertwine with mine, but she remains silent, choosing to give me the space to keep talking.
"That was the moment everything changed," I admit. "I couldn't stand by anymore. I couldn't become the monster Pyotr wanted me to be. I couldn't ever agree to fulfill the one purpose for which he created me."
"To marry Sayanaa," she says. "To be the heir that Pyotr needed you to be."
"Yes." I squeeze her hand back. "But I refuse to. Not when I knew the kind of person Sayanaa is."
"And what is that?” she asks softly.
“The worst monster of them all.” I force myself to meet her questioning gaze. "Sayanaa doesn't just actively participate in her father's trafficking operations. She enjoys it. Everything from stalking the victims, to kidnapping them, to the inevitable breaking to prepare them for sale. She takes pleasure in their pain and their tears. The more they beg her for mercy, the crueler she is to them."
Lacey's fingers tighten around mine, her face paling. "That's horrible."
"And each year, her obsession with me grows stronger. She sees it as her divine right—her obligation to her father to produce the heir that would unite two bratvas under a single bloodline."
“And she’s coming to our wedding, isn't she?" Lacey's voice quivers slightly.
"She wouldn't miss it." I keep my tone even, controlled. "In fact, I'm counting on her being there."
“What?” Lacey's eyes widen with disbelief. "Why?"
“Because if she’s there, it’ll draw the attention of everyone else in that cathedral onto her." My thumb traces circles on the back of Lacey's hand. “And if everyone, you included, focused on her, then I could take the bible without anyone else noticing. That’s why I didn’t want you to know. I needed you to be just as surprised as everyone else.”
“You should’ve told me.” Lacey’s voice is soft. "I deserved to know what I was really getting myself into. What you were really getting me into.”
She’s right.
Those final words hit me harder than any of Olga's slaps. I should’ve told her everything from the start, let her know just how dangerous things could get.
“I know.” I take her hand in mine. “I was wrong to keep that from you.”
She nods slowly, her fingers still intertwined with mine.
“No point in getting mad at you now. Wedding is in a couple of hours.” Lacey sighs. “But don’t you dare think you’re off the hook yet.”
I let a wan smile curve up on my lips. “I know I’m not.”
“If she's as unhinged as you say." Lacey's free hand drifts to her necklace again. "What's stopping her from shedding blood in the cathedral?"
"Because Kirsan won't let her." I shake my head. "The cathedral is the heart of Kirsan's cash flow. The last thing he wants is for Parisian police to start an investigation and poking around it. No matter how unhinged Sayanaa might be, Kirsan keeps her on a tight leash."
"But—"
“The safest place you’ll be is in that cathedral,” I tell her solemnly. “Next to me.”
She looks at me, mind turning as she processes everything I just said. Slowly, the uncertainty fades from her eyes until it’s replaced by that spark of determination I've come to admire.
“Okay.” She takes a deep breath. “Okay. We can do this. I can do this. This is fucking insane, but we can do it.”
“We will do it.” I give her hand a squeeze.
Together, we cross the lobby, hand-in-hand. The sound of our footsteps echoes off the ornate walls, mixing with the subtle whispers of the fountain nearby.
The elevator doors slide open with a soft chime. As we step inside, I catch her studying my reflection in the mirrored walls. Understanding replacing the hurt that was in her amber-flecked eyes mere moments ago.
"Thank you," she whispers. "For finally telling me the truth."
Not the whole truth , my mind reminds me.
The image of Nathan Walker's final moments flashes through my mind.
His terrified eyes, his desperate pleas, the way his body went limp. But above all else, how a savage satisfaction rushed through me at the prospect of hurting him.
Am I truly any different from Sayanaa? From Pyotr? From Kirsan?
I push the thoughts away and focus on the warmth of Lacey's hand in mine. The way she leans slightly into me as the elevator continues to rise.
She trusts me, and I don't intend on destroying that trust.
Not now.
The elevator arrives, and I push open the door to reveal our bridal suite with a clear view of the glittering Parisian skyline against the rising sun.
Tell her, you coward! My mind screams. She deserves to know everything.
But the words die in my throat each time I try to open my mouth. If she knew what I did to Nathan... what Demyon and I did to the body... she would never look at me the same way again.
She would never trust me again the way she does now.
She would leave, and the thought of her walking away makes my chest constrict painfully.
I've never feared losing someone before. Not like this.
When did she become so essential to me? When did the thought of losing her become more terrifying than anything Sayanaa or Kirsan might do?
"Vadim?" Her soft voice pulls me from my thoughts. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." I force a smile and walk her to the window, where the Eiffel Tower stabs through the morning fog. "Just thinking about what’s about to happen soon.”
It's the first lie I've ever told her.
I try and excuse myself. I try justifying it that it's all to protect this fragile thing growing between us.
But I know that it's just another secret that can shatter everything if she ever discovers it.