Page 98 of Beautiful Cruelty

"Is this how it'll always be?" she pants. "Between us?"

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"First, you treat me like a queen, treasured and adored." She motions her head towards the door as steam rises all around us. "And then, you close the door and fuck me like a whore."

"And if I do, would you be opposed?"

"No." She closes her eyes, smiling as she presses a tiny kiss to my shoulder. "Because it's exactly what I want."

28

LACEY

DAYS LATER

My heart racesas we speed along the empty streets toward Boeing Field. Even at this early hour, Vadim's presence beside me in the Ferrari fills the car with an electric tension. Neither of us has spoken much since leaving Pankration.

The day is just starting to break when we pull up to a sleek Gulfstream G650. Its polished white exterior gleams like fresh snow.

"Your private jet?" I whisper, though I don't know why I'm surprised. Of course the pakhan of the Stravinsky Bratva would have his own plane.

"More comfortable than commercial." Vadim's hand finds the small of my back as he guides me up the stairs. "And more private for what we need to do."

Inside, Irina sits surrounded by the white fabric of my wedding dress. Her fingers move with practiced precision as she goes over every little detail. She barely glances up when we enter.

"I've made some final changes in case the Archbishop's bible is heavier than expected," she says, her voice tight with anxiety. "The seams have been reinforced here and here." She points to areas that look identical to the rest of the intricate beadwork. "And I've reconstructed the entire thing in stretch velvet in case the dimensions aren't completely right."

"You're sure it'll hold?" Vadim's question carries the weight of everything at stake.

"It will." Irina nods, but I see the tremor in her hands as she folds the dress. "One minute. That's all you'll have."

One minute to pull off the heist that will help Vadim take down Kirsan's trafficking operation. One minute that could change everything—or destroy us all.

"Once we land in Paris, I'll stay with the jet," Irina says, her fingers still moving over the beadwork. "Everything will be ready for immediate departure."

"And I'll be with you two at the church," Demyon adds from his seat near the cockpit. "Once you step out of the church and get into your car, it's straight to the Seine where the boat will be waiting."

I glance between them, these people willing to risk everything. "Irina, you don't have to be here. It's too dangerous."

She finally looks up from the dress, her emerald eyes blazing with determination. "Iwantto be here. After what Kirsan and Pyotr did to me..." Her hands still on the fabric. "What Kirsan is still doing to others.”

My chest tightens at the pain in her voice. I think of the necklace Vadim returned to me, of Mom’s memory, of all the things wefight to protect. Of course Irina wants to help stop the man who nearly destroyed her life.

"Besides," she continues with a small smile. "Someone needs to make sure this dress stays perfect for your big day."

Vadim's hand finds mine, squeezing gently. The weight of his touch grounds me, reminds me why we're really doing this. It's not just about us anymore. It's about all the people Kirsan has hurt, all the lives we might save.

But looking at the determination on Irina's face, feeling Vadim's strength beside me, I know we have to try.

I look at Irina as she carefully smooths the dress. "What happens after all this?"

"We'll go home." Her emerald eyes sparkle. "I'm starting a new line. Something different from what I've done before. Something inspired."

"That sounds wonderful." The tension in my shoulders eases slightly as we drift into more familiar territory. Fashion. Design. Things that made sense before my world turned upside down.

"You should come work with me," Irina says, reaching for her bag. "I brought some preliminary sketches. We could look them over on the flight back to Seattle when this is all over."

My heart skips. "You're serious?"

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