Page 40 of Beautiful Cruelty

"Exactly." I pick up my glass again.

"Once you've hidden the bible in your new wife's dress, then what?" Demyon asks, all doubt about Lacey temporarily gone as he starts thinking out loud with me about our upcoming heist. "Kirsan's men will be all over us the moment we walk out of the cathedral."

“We’ll use the traditional tour of the city after the ceremony as our getaway.” I pull out my phone and bring up Google Maps. "It's a thirty-minute drive from the cathedral to the Issy-les-Moulineaux Heliport, and from there, we make for Melun Villaroche where the jet will be waiting. We can lose anyone following us in the Bois du Boulogne, especially if we use decoys."

"Not if Kirsan gets the police to block the bridges over the Seine." Demyon shakes his head as he looks at the map. "We'll need something a bit more unconventional."

"What do you suggest?"

"The Champs-Élysées." He points. "I can have a speedboat parked under the Pont des Invalides."

"I like it." I nod as I follow the route Demyon draws. "The L'île aux Cygnes would provide us cover from any potential gunmen on the right bank. And it'll put us right next to the heliport. Then, it's a short helicopter ride, a dash for the jet, and we'll be in the air."

"Where Kirsan can't touch us." Demyon leans forward.

"Exactly." I say.

"Now, let's take a step back. How do you intend on stealing the bible when the whole cathedral is looking at you?" Demyon asks.

"That's where you and Sayanaa come in, Demyushka." I nod. "I needyouto piss her off even more at the moment she tries to make a scene. Give her a distraction that she can't tear her eyes from."

"And in the chaos, you'll make the switch with the one hidden in your fiancée's dress." Demyon grins. "Clean and simple."

"As long as everything goes according to plan."

"How fast are you planning to pull this off?" Demyon drums his fingers on my desk.

"Two weeks." I swirl the remaining whiskey in my glass. "And that's if we start movingnow."

"Two weeks?" Demyon's eyes widen. "Blyat. That's barely enough time to get the rings, let alone—" He pauses. "Wait. Who's going to make the dress? It needs to be perfect for this to work."

"Irina." The answer comes instantly and I set down my glass. "She understands what's at stake, given her past.”

But as soon as I say it, I can't help recall the way Lacey's eyes lit up when she talked about fashion at Mrs. Klossner's. The passion in her voice when she described the construction of her own shoes was palpable even then.

A part of me wants to let her design her own dress. To see what she can create, given the chance.

But this isn't about making her dreams come true.

This is about getting that bible and stopping Kirsan.

"Irina can incorporate what we need without compromising the design." I push away thoughts of Lacey's talent. "We can't risk any mistakes. No other outsiders."

"Then why not marry Irina?" Demyon's eyes lock onto mine. “If we need a bride, why not use her?"

My fingers tighten around the glass. "No."

“Like you said, she understands what’s at stake?—”

"I said no." The words come out sharper than intended. I set down my glass before I break it. "You weren't there that night, Demyushka. You didn't see what Kirsan did to her."

"But that was years ago?—”

"And what if she sees someone in the cathedral who causes her to freeze up at the critical moment?" I turn to face him. "One moment of hesitation is all it takes for everything to fall apart."

"You don't know that she'll?—"

"I won't risk it." The memory of finding Irina all those years ago, broken and bleeding, flashes through my mind. "She's suffered enough at Kirsan's hands. I won't put her through that again."

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