Page 99 of Beautiful Cruelty

"Of course." She pulls out a leather portfolio. "You have an eye for design, Lacey." She shakes her head in admiration. "It's what Vadim said about you the first time he introduced us. I haven't forgotten."

"I'd like that," I whisper, surprised by how much I mean it. "Thank you."

The distant ring of Vadim's phone cuts through our discussion. He answers with a curt "Da" before switching to English. "Perfect timing. Have them board."

His hand finds mine before he stands. "The stylists are here. They'll transfer to a commercial flight for their return home after we land. They know nothing about what we're going to do. So, from this point forward, no more discussion of Paris beyond what is necessary for the ceremony itself." His gaze sweeps over each of us, lingering longest on me. "Understood?"

We all nod. Irina quickly folds the dress and tucks it into a garment bag while Demyon moves to help her clear away any evidence of our planning.

The cabin door opens and three women in crisp black uniforms file in, rolling cases of equipment behind them. Their practiced smiles remind me of flight attendants.

"Ladies, welcome aboard." Vadim's voice shifts seamlessly into the role of gracious host. "You'll find your work station prepared in the rear cabin. Let me know if you need assistance with anything."

The women bow slightly and move toward the back of the plane. I watch them go, struck by how easily we've switched from plotting a heist to playing the parts of an ordinary wedding party.

Vadim returns to his seat beside me, but maintains a proper distance now. His public mask is firmly in place—the wealthy businessman preparing to marry. Not the man who just spenthours planning how to steal a bible from one of Paris's most famous cathedrals.

The lead stylist pokes her head back in. "We'll begin setup now, if that's acceptable?"

"Of course." Vadim nods. "We'll take off as soon as you're settled."

A few hoursand a quick nap after reaching cruising altitude, the stylists descend upon me like a well-choreographed dance troupe. One starts on my feet while another begins prepping my face with expensive serums that smell like jasmine and spring rain.

"Close your eyes, miss," the lead stylist instructs as she massages something cool and silky into my skin. "This Cle de Peau mask will give you that perfect bridal glow."

I obey, letting myself drift as multiple hands work their magic. Someone starts sectioning my hair while another focuses on my cuticles. The methodical touches are almost hypnotic.

"You're going to look stunning," Irina says from somewhere nearby. I hear the rustle of the garment bag as she likely checks the dress one final time.

I'm being transformed into a different kind of bride altogether. Not the blushing innocent in white lace that I imagined, but an accomplice in an elaborate heist. My throat tightens as I think of how quickly everything changed.

"Are you alright, miss?" One of the stylists pauses her work on my hair. "You're trembling."

I try to respond but tears start spilling down my cheeks instead, ruining the expensive products they've just applied.

"I'm sorry," I manage to whisper, but more tears follow.

Through my blur of emotions, I hear Irina quietly asking the stylists to give us a moment. Soft footsteps retreat toward the back of the cabin.

Suddenly, Vadim is beside me. His fingers brush against my cheek, wiping away tears.

"What's wrong,zvyozdochka?"

I try to smile, to show him I'm fine, but my lower lip trembles. "Nothing. Just... wedding jitters, I guess."

His eyes search mine for a long moment before he stands, offering his hand. "Come with me."

I let him guide me toward the back of the plane where a private suite awaits. The space is intimate—all cream leather and polished wood. A small bed takes up one wall while a curved sofa lines the other.

Vadim closes the door behind us. "The noise from the engines will keep our conversation private."

My legs give out and I sink onto the sofa.

"I'm terrified," I whisper, the confession spilling from my lips before I can stop it. "What if something goes wrong? What if someone gets hurt because of me?"

He kneels in front of me, taking both my hands in his. "Listen to me carefully, Lacey. I promise you that no one will get hurt. Every detail has been planned. Every contingency accounted for." His thumb strokes my palm. "And most importantly, I will keep you safe."

"How can you be so sure?"

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