46. Lacey
46
LACEY
The door to the conservatory is unlocked, and Olga is waiting for me, dressed impeccably in spite of the rain. A knowing smile plays at her lips.
"Close the door," she says in that silky voice of hers.
My hands are steady as I push it shut.
"I need..." The words stick in my throat. Admitting this makes it real.
"To leave?” Her smile widens. "Like Polina did?"
I nod, unable to form the words. My chest feels too tight to breathe.
Olga rises gracefully, her heels silent as she approaches me. Her perfectly manicured fingers brush my cheek. The gesture would seem motherly if not for the predatory gleam in her eyes.
"Sweet girl. You're making the right choice."
Tears spill down my cheeks. "I can't stay here anymore."
But not for the reason that Olga believes. I can't stay here because I can't be what causes Vadim to fall.
"Of course you can't." She drops her hand and turns away. "Come with me. Quickly, before he returns and realizes that you're missing."
I follow her toward the back door into the rain. My heart pounds so hard I can barely hear anything else. This is really happening. I'm really doing this.
"Where are we going?" I whisper.
"Somewhere far away." Olga opens an umbrella over both of us. “A place where he can never find you."
The sleek black car glides through Seattle's empty streets, streetlights casting intermittent shadows across my lap while rain pitter-patters against the roof of the car. Olga sits beside me, her hands neatly folded in her lap.
I expected to head east, toward the mountains, but we're moving deeper into the city instead.
My stomach lurches as we take another turn. "This isn't the way out of the city."
"Patience, devushka ." Olga's blood-red nails tap against her knee. "We need to make a brief stop first."
The familiar outline of shipping containers looms ahead, stacked like Lego blocks against the night sky. Salt air mingles with diesel fumes among the rain as we approach the docks.
"Why are we here?" My voice sounds small, even to my own ears.
"Insurance." Olga's smile doesn't reach her eyes. "Did you think leaving would be as simple as driving away?"
The car slows, gravel crunching under the tires. Through the tinted windows, I spot several dark figures emerging from between the containers. My pulse quickens as I look at them.
"What kind of insurance?"
"The kind that ensures cooperation." Olga's hand closes around my wrist, her grip surprisingly strong. "Kirsan will be very pleased."
My blood runs cold. The name hits me like a physical blow.
Kirsan?!
And that's when realization dawns.
"You weren't helping me…" Panic seizes my throat. "You were working for him . For Kirsan! "
"You should've listened to me more carefully, devushka. " Olga's perfectly painted lips curve upward. "I told you that unlike Polina, you still have a chance to change how your story ends. And unfortunately for you, this is the ending you chose.”
The car door opens and cold air rushes in. I try to pull away but Olga's grip is unrelenting.
"Welcome to your new life, Lacey McKinney. I'm sure you'll fetch quite the price."
My heart hammers against my ribs as reality crashes in. "No, no, this can't be happening." I yank my arm free from Olga's grip. "HELP! Somebody?—"
The words freeze in my throat when I see Olga reach into her purse with her free hand and pull out a sleek black pistol. The gun's barrel gleams in the dim light as she points it at my chest.
"Stop screaming." Her voice is hard as ice, and utterly devoid of emotion.
She slides gracefully out of the car, never lowering the weapon even as she opens her umbrella again. The rain, driven by the wind, whips at her perfectly styled hair but she doesn't seem to notice.
"Out," she orders.
I stay frozen in place, mind racing. If I run, she'll shoot. If I scream, no one will care. The reality of my situation is starting to set in.
I walked right into this trap.
Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!
"I won't ask again, devushka ." Olga gestures with the gun. "Don't make me have my associates drag you out. And you better believe that I won't do a damn thing if they decide to do more than drag."
Dark figures lurking by the containers shift closer. Terror claws up my throat when I realize that these are all Kirsan's men.
Two figures—a man and a woman—emerge from between the containers, and the others part to let them through.
The man moves with a fluid grace that sends ice through my veins.
The man stops first. His expensive suit seems to absorb the shadows around us, making him appear more wraith than human. But it's his eyes that pins me in place.
They're pale and predatory, like a snake sizing up its prey.
My breath catches in my throat when I recognize the woman behind him.
Sayanaa.
"Kirsan Evdokimovich. Sayanaa Kirsanovna." Olga's voice drips with honeyed respect as she inclines her head to them both. "The bastard's bride, just as you requested."
My legs threaten to give out as father and daughter look at me. This is the monster behind it all? The trafficker who destroyed so many lives? Who killed Irina? Who sold Polina to Pyotr?
"Excellent work, Olga Romanovna." His accent is lighter than I expected, cultured and precise. "You worked fast."
Olga gestures toward me with her gun. "You may inspect her if you like."
"There will be time for that later." Kirsan's gaze slides over me with clinical detachment, as if assessing livestock at auction. "She'll make an excellent addition to our premium collection."
Nausea roils my stomach. The way he talks about me—like I'm nothing more than merchandise to be cataloged and sold—makes my skin crawl. I think of all those girls Vadim tried to save through Svoboda. Is this what they felt, being sized up and categorized like objects?
A cold smile spreads across Kirsan's face as he steps closer. His cologne—expensive and cloying—fills my nostrils.
"Come now, Ms. McKinney. You and I are going to take a little trip together."
My stomach churns as his words sink in. This can't be happening. But the gun trained on me and the men surrounding us make the nightmare all too real.
"Mr. Walker was right about you," he continues, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my face. I flinch away but there's nowhere to go. "You are beautiful. Worth far more than the pittance he was willing to sell you for."
The casual mention of Nathan sends ice through my veins. All those late nights at the office, the suspicious phone calls, the way he'd fuss over my appearance before events.
He'd been sizing me up.
For sale .
"As you know, Ms. McKinney." Kirsan's pale eyes rake over me again, lingering in ways that make my skin crawl. "Your husband has something that is precious to me. So, it is only fair that I take something that is precious to him."
He licks his lips slowly as his grubby fingers cups my right breast and gives it a painful squeeze. I fight the urge to vomit.
Behind him, a savage smile spreads on Sayanaa's lips as she watches.
"Sayavochka!" He turns to her and smiles. "Daddy's brought you a new toy to play with. Now be a good girl and put her with the rest. But don't break this one just yet." He turns his snake-like gaze back towards me. "Not until Pyotr's bastard gives me what I want. Ponimayesh? "
"I understand, papochka ." Sayanaa says as she steps closer and seizes my arm. "Hello, little thief."
I gaze back into her piercing blue eyes, my mouth pressed into a firm silent line.
Sayanaa's cold fingers trace along my neck, pushing my hair aside as she examines the bruises on my neck. Her touch makes my skin crawl as she examines the marks Vadim left.
“Such a pretty thing.” Her fingers drift to Mom's necklace still around my neck, and her lips curl into a cruel smile. “Far too pretty for cheap merchandise like you.”
Before I can react, she yanks hard, and snaps the delicate chain in the process.
No!
My heart leaps to my throat as I watch her throw it carelessly to the ground.
And before I can stop her, she slams her heel down onto it. In one fluid motion, she grinds apart my last reminder of Mom with a sickening crunch.
I bite my tongue until I taste copper, fighting back tears. I won't give her the satisfaction of seeing me cry.
"You don't deserve him, little thief." She leans in close, her lips brushing my ear as she grips my arm with her free hand. "These love marks on your neck from my Vadyusha? They're nothing compared to what I'll do to you."
Sayanaa pulls away, her grip on my arm tightening as she drags me toward the maze of shipping containers. The rain has soaked through my clothes, and I can’t help glance at Mom’s shattered necklace on the ground.
My feet slip, but Sayanaa doesn't slow her pace.
Behind us, Kirsan and Olga's voices fade against the steady drumbeat of rain on metal.
The shipping containers loom overhead like dark monoliths, their surfaces slick and gleaming under the harbor lights.
My heart pounds against my ribs as we pass one container after another. Some have numbers stenciled on their sides, others are completely blank.
All around me, I can hear the sound of muffled wailing coming from them.
The hinges of a shipping container scream open. I catch a glimpse of over a dozen terrified pairs of eyes staring back at the suddenly influx of light.
But that's when I see her—a teenage girl with dirty-blonde hair standing in the middle of them all. There's something familiar in the way she carries herself
Despite her circumstances, she's the only one who refuses to shy from the light. Refuses to cower from Sayanaa. There's a fierce defiance in her gaze that reminds me so much of him .
And her eyes…
I blink as I stare at those eyes.
Yes… there's no mistaking them.
They're the same storm-gray as Vadim's.
But before I can say anything, Sayanaa gives me a shove and I tumble inside.
Then, the shipping container doors are slammed shut and I'm plunged into a world of infinite darkness.
END OF BOOK 1