Page 141 of Beautiful Cruelty

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 slipon the marble floors as I run, each footfall echoing off the walls. Behind me, I hear Vadim's heavy steps giving chase.

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