37. Lacey
37
LACEY
ONE WEEK LATER
I smooth down my skirt and try to focus on Irina's elegant sketches spread across my desk, but my mind is still piecing itself back together from the heat of Vadim's touch minutes ago.
My skin tingles where his hands gripped my hips and where his lips traced paths down my neck. I'm acutely aware of the tiny smear of his cum on my thigh. And with each slow trembling breath, I can practically still taste his scent on my tongue.
This has become our new normal—me working through Irina's final collection during daylight hours while he wages his war against Kirsan. And finding release with each other when darkness falls.
Or sometimes, like today, whenever the tension becomes too much to bear.
But underneath this veneer of routine, something feels...off.
Like the calm before a storm. The hair on the back of my neck stands up at odd moments, and I catch myself holding my breath, waiting for a non-existent hammer to fall.
I pick up my pencil again, tracing over a copy to one of Irina's dress designs, my heart clenching as I do so.
She had such vision, such talent. The way she could make fabric flow like water, and the way she understood how to accentuate without revealing. I have to get this right, have to honor her legacy.
But before I can return to my work, my phone rings.
Megan's name flashes across the screen. My heart skips—I haven't spoken to her since Vadim took me. Before everything changed. I stare at her name as my phone keeps ringing, guilt twisting in my stomach.
I can't ignore her forever.
Taking a deep breath, I answer.
"Meg?"
"Where the hell have you been?" Her voice cracks.
"Things have been..." I trail off, not sure how to explain everything that's happened.
"Lacey, something happened. It's Nathan."
My heart stutters.
"Nathan? What about him?"
"The police came to Dad's house this morning, looking for you. Apparently, they found Nathan's body a week ago. Washed up near Alki Beach."
The pencil slips from my fingers, clattering against the desk. "What?"
"I'd rather not talk about this over the phone, and I don't have all the details. But from what they told me, they put the time of death to around three weeks ago."
My hands start trembling. Three weeks. Right around when I caught him with Caroline.
When Vadim found me in his apartment.
The same Vadim who told me that Nathan worked for Kirsan when I asked him what the hell he was doing in Nathan's apartment.
Three weeks ago.
"Lacey? Are you still there?"
"Yeah," I whisper, gripping the edge of the desk. "I'm here."
"We need to talk. In person. Can you meet me?"
I look down at the sketches scattered across my desk, then at the door where Vadim disappeared minutes ago. The room starts spinning. I press my hand against my mouth, bile rising in my throat.
"Lacey?"
"Where?" My voice sounds hollow even to my own ears.
"Three Birds," she replies quickly. "How soon can you be here?"
"Give me a few minutes to figure it out. I'll let you know as soon as I can."
I push back from the desk, my legs shaking as I stand. I stumble into the hallway and nearly collide with Lenka.
"Lacey, dear ? What is going on?" Her weathered hands steady me. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I need..." The words catch in my throat. "I need to see my sister."
"Why?" Lenka's sharp eyes study my face.
"It's been three weeks since I've arrived," I tell her. "And I haven't talked to her at all. Usually, we don't go for more than a few days without speaking. She's worried."
"Ah." Lenka nods, her expression softening into understanding. "I see. Perhaps she can come here? I'm sure Vadim Petrovich would not oppose his sister-in-law's presence here in Pankration."
"No!" The word bursts from my lips before I can stop it. Lenka's eyebrows shoot up at my outburst, and I force myself to take a steadying breath. "I mean, I can't have her come here."
"Why not? Pankration is your home now, dear."
"Megan doesn't know about the marriage yet," I say, latching onto the closest truth I can find. "I haven't told her anything about any of this." I gesture vaguely at our surroundings. "I need to explain everything to her in person first."
"Ah." Understanding softens Lenka's expression. "Then let me arrange a car?—"
"No," I cut in again, gentler this time. "Please. I need things to seem normal. If I show up in one of Vadim's cars with his drivers, or god forbid, a guard..." I shake my head. "She'll have questions I'm not ready to answer yet. She needs to hear about all of this from me, not piece it together from what she sees."
"You wish to protect her," Lenka says slowly.
"Yes." The word tastes like ash in my mouth. "Exactly."
Lenka studies my face for a long moment. "Very well. Follow me, dear."
I follow Lenka down a spiral staircase into Pankration's underground garage. The lights flicker on automatically, revealing a collection that would make any car enthusiast weep. Ferraris, Lamborghinis, and Aston Martins gleam under the fluorescent lights like predatory cats waiting to pounce.
"I can't take any of these," I say, waving at the rows of luxury vehicles. "They're too flashy. She'd notice right away that something's different."
"You don't approve?" Lenka's eyes crinkle with amusement.
"It's not that. My sister knows I drive a beat-up Honda. If I show up in one of these..." I gesture at a midnight blue Maserati. "How am I supposed to explain it?"
Lenka nods thoughtfully. "Perhaps something more practical, then?"
She leads me past the exotic cars to a far corner where a silver Prius sits, looking almost apologetic next to its glamorous neighbors.
"Perfect," I breathe in relief. "This is exactly what I need."
"Lacey." Lenka's tone turns serious as I open the door and find the keys are already in the ignition. "The streets are not safe right now. Vadim Petrovich's actions against Kirsan have stirred up dangerous forces."
"I know." I twist my hands together. "But my sister's worried sick about me. And I need to make sure my family's okay without me there."
My voice cracks.
Dad… I think. I haven't seen him in three weeks. It's been too long. I hope he's alright. I hope they're all alright.
Even Freddy.
Lenka studies me for a long moment before nodding. "Very well. I'll tell him you're resting with a headache if he asks. But please be careful, dear. Don't stay out too long. If you do, he will come looking for you, and the cars have trackers in them."
"Thank you." I squeeze her hand in gratitude. "And I'll return soon. I promise."
I slide into the Prius and take a deep breath. My hands shake slightly as I grip the steering wheel. Even this practical car feels too luxurious compared to my old Honda with its cracked leather seats and temperamental AC.
Pulling out my phone, I dial Megan's number. She picks up on the first ring.
"I'm on my way," I tell her before she can speak. "Should be there in about an hour."
"Good. I'll grab us a table in the back." Her voice sounds tight with worry.
"See you soon." I end the call and pull out of the garage.
Familiar rain patters from the murmuring gray sky against the windshield as I get onto the road.
Soon, the distant skyline of Seattle comes closer through the gentle rain, familiar yet somehow different after these three weeks. I keep checking my rearview mirror, scanning for anything that might suggest I'm being followed.
Not that it matters, I remind myself.
Lenka told me that the car has a tracker in it. If Vadim wants to find me, he can and he will.
Still, my skin prickles with unease. Each red light feels like an eternity where I'm exposed. Every turn could lead to an ambush.
But above all else, the weight of what just I learned about Nathan squeeze against my chest, making it hard to breathe.
Three weeks…
The timing can't be a coincidence. But I push that thought away before it can fully form. I can't start jumping to conclusions. Not yet. Not before Megan can tell me more information.
A car honks behind me and I realize the light has turned green.
I press the gas, heart racing as I make the turn toward Three Birds.