41. Lacey
41
LACEY
Thunder crashes overhead as I step through Pankration's heavy doors. The darkness inside swallows me whole, broken only by occasional flashes of lightning through the windows. My wet clothes cling to my skin, but the chill I feel has nothing to do with being soaked.
Vadim stands in the foyer. His broad frame rises like a darker shadow against the gloom. His hands are clasped behind his back, and even without seeing his face clearly, I can feel the fury radiating from him.
"You went behind my back." His voice cuts through the silence like a knife. "To the police ."
"I can explain?—"
"Shut the fuck up." Each word drops like a hammer blow. "Do you have any idea what you've done? The damage you may have caused?"
"Megan's missing," I whisper. "She was supposed to wait for me and?—"
"I said shut the fuck up! " He advances on me, roaring, and I stumble backward until my spine hits the wall. "What the fuck were you thinking? Everything we've worked for. Everything we sacrificed! And you risk it all by walking into a police station?"
Lightning illuminates his face for a split second. His features are twisted with rage. His eyes burn with an intensity that makes my breath catch. The mansion feels impossibly empty around us, as if the very walls are holding their breath.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, my voice small and trembling. But Vadim just keeps coming closer, boxing me in with his body until I can feel the heat of his anger against my rain-chilled skin.
"Sorry? Sorry doesn't begin to cover this."
My throat constricts as I try to form words under Vadim's burning gaze. My heart pounds against my ribs as I search for words, any words, to explain myself. But Vadim's rage presses against me like a physical force, stealing the air from my lungs.
And his eyes... God, his eyes are different now. Where there was once warmth, even tenderness, now there's only cold fury in their stormy gray.
And for the first time, I see him for what he is: a cold, ruthless pakhan.
Powerful.
Dangerous.
"Caroline was lying to the police about me." My voice quivers as I force the words out. "I had to clear my name, I had to?—"
"Clear your name?" Vadim snarls. "Irina died to get us that bible. She gave her life so that we could destroy Kirsan's operation. And you risk throwing it all away because you wanted to clear your name? "
"I..." The words stick in my throat.
Everything's spiraling out of control and it's all because of me. If I hadn't screamed at Nathan when I caught him with Caroline, she wouldn't have lied about me.
If I hadn't gone back there, I never would've gotten involved with Vadim's plan.
If I hadn't agreed to the heist... Irina would still be alive. And now Megan…
Megan is gone, and it must be because I went to see her instead of calling her to come here where it's safe.
It's all my fault. Every person who's suffered. Every person who's about to suffer.
All of it was because of me.
Lightning flashes again, casting harsh shadows across Vadim's face as thunder starts rumbling outside. My back is pressed so hard against the wall I can feel each ridge of the stone surface digging into my spine.
"What did you tell them?" His voice drops lower, more dangerous.
"I... I..." The words tangle in my throat. All I can think about is how different he looks right now—like a stranger wearing my husband's face.
" Answer me! Eto moi prikaz! " The Russian words crack like a whip through the air.
I don't understand the meaning, but I can hear the command in his voice. The tender man who held me after Irina's death, who promised to protect me, is gone. In his place stands the pakhan of the Stravinsky Bratva, and I am nothing more than a liability to be dealt with.
My fingers curl against the wall behind me.
"Nothing they didn't already know." My voice comes out small, barely a whisper.
"You're lying." His palm slams against the wall beside my head, making me jump. "Tell me the truth!"
"I... I..." My heart hammers so hard I can barely breathe. "I said the word bratva ."
The silence stretches between us, broken only by the rumble of distant thunder.
My legs tremble as the reality of my situation crashes over me. There's no Aleksey to interrupt this time. No one waiting outside to rescue me. It's just me and Vadim, alone in this massive house with its painful secrets and dark shadows.
I turn my face away from him, unable to keep looking into his eyes.
"Look at me." His fingers grip my jaw, and forces my face back towards his.
Even in the darkness, I can see the intensity of his gaze. My skin burns where he touches me, but the heat doesn’t chase away the cold from the rain clinging to my clothes.
Captain Rutledge's words echo in my mind: The teeth, fingers, and toes removed... punctures in the stomach... typical of the Russian Mafia...
My heart pounds against my ribs as the pieces click into place. The timing of everything. Vadim in Nathan's apartment. The methodical disposal of the body.
"Did you kill Nathan?" The words slip out before I can stop them, barely a whisper against his palm.
His grip on my jaw slackens for just a moment and this momentary flash of tension confirms everything. The air leaves my lungs in a rush as the full weight of this revelation crashes over me.
All strength drains from my legs and I slip down the wall, my wet clothes dragging against the stone surface. The floor is cold beneath me, but I barely register it through the numbness spreading through my body.
Nathan is dead.
Vadim killed him.
I wrap my arms around myself, trying to stop the violent trembling that's taken over my body. My soaked dress clings to my skin like a second layer of guilt.
Suddenly, I remember the metallic taste of his pocket square when he shoved it in my mouth back in Nathan's apartment.
Olga's words echo in my head: "Sooner or later, Pyotr’s bastard will put blood on your hands."
But the blood was already there, wasn't it?
Bile rises in my throat and I press my palm against my mouth, fighting the urge to be sick.
I thought Kirsan had killed Nathan. But it was Vadim. My husband. The man I've been sharing a bed with. The man I've been falling for...
I feel like I'm drowning, like everything I thought I knew is being stripped away piece by piece. My world narrows down to this single moment—me on the floor, soaked and shivering, while my husband towers over me.
"Don't you look away from me." Vadim's voice comes from somewhere above me, but I refuse to lift my head. I don’t want to face those storm-gray eyes that I've lost myself in so many times.
The same eyes that were the last thing Nathan saw before he died.
"Murderer," I whisper.
"What did you just say?" Vadim's voice drops dangerously low.
Something inside me snaps. Maybe it's the weight of all the lies, maybe it's the horror of realizing what he's done. Whatever it is, it gives me the strength to finally look up and meet his gaze.
"Murderer," I say again, louder this time. My voice echoes off the marble floors.
"Murderer? Because of Nathan Walker?" Vadim snarls. "He helped traffick women and children. He helped Kirsan turn innocent lives into commodities to be bought and sold. He deserved what happened to him."
"That doesn't give you the right to kill him!" I scream, my voice cracking. "You had no right to?—"
"I have every right!" His fist slams into the wall beside my head. "Every person who willingly participates in this business deserves to die. Every single one of them. And I will not stop until they are all dead."
He leans down, his face inches from mine. "But now, because of you, that mission is at risk."
"Get the fuck away from me." The words come out as a terrified whisper, but Vadim doesn't move. If anything, he presses closer, hemming me in against the wall.
My heart pounds so hard I can barely breathe. Every instinct screams at me to run, but there's nowhere to go. His arms cage me in, his massive frame blocking any escape.
I try to slide along the wall, but he shifts with me, maintaining the suffocating closeness. His eyes burn into mine with an intensity that leaves me shuddering.
Without thinking, I draw my leg back and kick as hard as I can. My foot connects with his stomach, and the impact sends a shock through my whole body. Vadim doubles over with a grunt, stumbling back just enough to give me space.
I scramble to my feet, my wet dress clinging to my legs as I bolt for the front door. Freedom is just steps away?—
A hand grabs for me and I hear Vadim's growl behind me. Pure instinct takes over and I change direction, darting away from his grasp. My feet carry me deeper into Pankration's darkness, away from the exit and into the labyrinth of hallways I still don't fully know.
Lightning flashes through the windows, casting wild shadows that make the mansion feel alive and hungry. My wet shoes slip on the marble floors as I run, each footfall echoing off the walls. Behind me, I hear Vadim's heavy steps giving chase.
I dash up the grand staircase. My lungs burn as I push myself faster, desperate to reach the second floor. Just a few more steps...
A hand grabs my ankle and I scream, kicking out wildly. My foot connects with something solid and I hear Vadim grunt again. His grip loosens just enough for me to wrench free.
I scramble forward on hands and knees, marble cold and slick beneath my palms. But I only make it a few steps before his weight slams into me from behind, crushing me against the floor. All the air leaves my lungs in a rush.
"You betrayed me." His voice is a dangerous growl in my ear. “After everything we did together! After everything I told you! Why?”
I try to push up, to squirm away, but he's too heavy, too strong. His hands pin my wrists to the floor and I can feel the heat of his body through my rain-soaked dress. My heart pounds so hard I think it might burst.
That's when I feel his grip on my left hand tighten. His thumb brushes over my ring finger and he goes very, very still.
I squeeze my eyes shut, knowing exactly what he's found—Nathan's engagement ring, the one I put on at Megan's suggestion before going to the police station.
"What the fuck is this doing on your finger?" Vadim's voice drips with venom against my ear.
"The police would've asked questions if—" My words cut off in a gasp as he yanks my hand up.
"I don't give a fuck what questions they were going to ask!" He wrenches the ring off my finger with such force that I cry out in pain. "You are mine ! Not his."
The ring clatters somewhere in the darkness, the sound echoing off marble. My body trembles beneath his weight, but not just from fear anymore. Heat pools low in my belly, shameful and undeniable.
"I had to look the part," I whisper, but the words sound hollow even to my own ears.
"The part of what? His grieving fiancée?" Vadim's breath is hot against my neck. "Is that what you still want to be?"
His grip tightens on my wrists, and I bite back a moan. What the fuck is wrong with me? I should be terrified. I should be fighting harder. Instead, I'm arching up against him, seeking more contact.
"No," I gasp out.
"Then what do you want?" His words rumble through his chest and into mine.
Maybe I'm reacting this way because I'm about to get exactly what I deserve: punishment for my part in all of this. For getting Irina killed. For putting Megan in danger. For betraying Vadim's trust.
The weight of my guilt crashes over me, and suddenly I understand.
I've been seeking absolution since Paris, and there's only one way to get it.
And maybe, just maybe...
I've known all along this is the only way I can get it.
"Answer me, zvyozdochka! "
"I want you to hurt me," I whisper, the confession tearing from somewhere deep inside me.
Somewhere honest. Somewhere that I've always known existed. Somewhere that I've done my best to keep from the world.
Somewhere that only he can reach.
The heat from his body seem to envelop me completely, and I feel the unmistakable hardness of his cock rising at my words.
"Don't lie to me, zvyozdochka ," his breath burns at my earlobe as one hand grabs the hem of my dress and starts hiking it up my thigh.
"I'm not," I reply, as he exposes my ass and tears away my panties with a practiced stroke. "I want you to hurt me. I need you to hurt me."
"You want me to hurt you?" His belt jingles as it comes undone. “Is that really what you fucking want?”
I squeeze my eyes shut and shudder involuntarily at the sound of him unzipping his pants. Cool air kisses my exposed ass, replaced quickly with the unmistakable heat of his cock.
"Yes…" I admit, arching my back towards him until the angry throbbing head inches inside of me. "Hurt me. Use me. Punish me. Make me pay for all the things I've done."
Then, I turn around, stare into his storm gray eyes, and whisper, begging. "Please."