Page 10 of Beautiful Cruelty

"Oh my God, can you get your mind out of the gutter?" I throw a decorative pillow at her head. “I told you, I’m not interested.”

"Sure." Megan dodges with practiced ease. "Not interested in the sexy, rich, and obviously interested billionaire with cheese-grater abs. You’re such a terrible liar."

"Do I need to remind you that I literally caught Nathan cheating on me last night?"

"Exactly. Perfect timing for some revenge success."

"Revenge success?"

"Did I say revenge success?" Megan wiggles her eyebrows. "Sorry, I meant revenge sex."

"You're impossible." But I can't help smiling.

"Impossibly optimistic." She smirks. "And that number isn't going to dial itself. Look, Lace, this Vadim guy is clearly loaded and at least cares a little bit about fashion. So you got common ground already. The two of you were arguing like an old marriedcouple within thirty seconds of meeting each other.Andhe gave you his number? If you aren’t going to serve yourself up to him on a platter, I will!"

"Like you’d survive a night catering." I stand up, needing to move. "The last thing I need is to get involved with some arrogant douchebag who probably sees me as another number on his spreadsheet, Meg. It’s not proper!”

"Since when do you care about proper?” Megan fixes me with that look she gets when she thinks I'm being particularly dense. "Look, I'm not saying marry the guy. But he gave you his number for a reason. If nothing else, hewantsyou to call him. When was the last time you did something just for yourself? Something selfish?"

I snort. "I don't have time to be selfish."

"That's exactly my point." Megan reaches for my phone again. “You need to be selfish, for once in your life. You can’t spend all your time taking care of everyone else. Dad, Mrs. Klossner, your catering job?—"

"Oh shit." I tuck my phone safely in my pocket. "I need to get my dry cleaning from the car before I forget."

"Running away from this conversation won't make it go away!" she calls after me.

"Watch me try!" I yell back, but I'm smiling as I step outside into the humid evening air.

My dry cleaning is sitting in the backseat right where I left it this morning—a lifetime ago, before Nathan and Vadim and everything else that's made this day feel endless.

When I come back, Megan's already frowning.

"Lacey?" She points. "Are you sure that'syourdry cleaning? You could fit two of you in here."

"What?"

I look and my stomach immediately drops.

Instead of the familiar black vest and slacks, I find myself staring at a full three-piece suit—charcoal gray, perfectly tailored, and definitely not mine. The shoulders alone are twice my width. There's no way I could fill this out.

One look, and I can tell the fabric isn't the polyester blend I'd dropped off the other day. I rip the plastic cover off and run my hand over it and gasp.

This is cashmere.

Real cashmere.

And the stitching… I marvel at the workmanship. Each seam is perfect. Each button is made of gleaming mother-of-pearl. This suit belongs in a museum, not balled up in my hands.

“Oh no.” My voice comes out small as memories of this morning flood back. Vadim standing too close. His scent making my head spin as he talked. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. And me, grabbing whatever was closest on the counter without even looking.

Quickly, I open it up and my world spins when I see the distinctive gold-threaded label stitched inside the jacket collar.

Svoboda.

"No." I close my eyes, willing the label to change. "No, no, no."

"What?" Megan peers over my shoulder. Her eyes go wide. "Is that…"

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