Page 119 of Beautiful Cruelty

"You've done more than enough." My voice sounds hollow even to my own ears. "There's no reason for you to stay involved in..." I gesture vaguely at the looming mansion. "Any of this."

"Vadim—"

"I won't force you to stay in this darkness with me." My fingers tighten around hers before letting go. "Not after what happened to Irina. So if you want this to end. Just say so."

Lacey's hand finds mine again in the darkness.

"No."

The single word carries more weight than I expect.

"No?"

"I'm not going anywhere." Her voice is quiet but firm, carrying the same steel I heard when she stared me down in Mrs. Klossner's dry cleaner. "For better or worse, I'm already involved in this."

"Lacey—"

"Let me finish." She shifts in her seat to face me fully. Even with tears staining her cheeks and exhaustion shadowing her eyes, there's a fierce determination in her expression that makes my breath catch. "Someone needs to continue Irina's work. Everything from her designs to the work she does with Svoboda."

My chest tightens at the mention of Irina's name. "You don't have to."

"But I do." She tightens her hold on my hand, fingers still trembling slightly. "What Irina did, using fashion to save trafficking victims, giving them hope and a fresh start. That wasn't just a job for her. It was her life's mission. Her purpose."

The passion in her voice reminds me so much of Irina that it physically hurts.

"It's dangerous work." I remind her.

"I know, but I don't care." Lacey's grip tightens. "Irina made armor from cloth. And now she's gone.” Her voice catches. "But her work, what she stood for? That can't die with her."

"You could have a normal life."

"After everything I've seen and lived and learned?" She shakes her head. "I can't just walk away and pretend none of this exists. Not when I can help you make a difference." Her other hand reaches up to touch my face. "You'll need someone with an eye for design."

The echo of Irina's words in Lacey's determination strikes me speechless. Where I expect to find fear in her eyes, I see only resolve.

"For better or worse," Lacey whispers, "I'm already part of this. Let me honor her memory by continuing what she started."

My heart swells at Lacey's words, at the unwavering conviction burning in her amber-flecked eyes.

"Are you sure?" I cup her face, searching her eyes for any hint of doubt. "Once you step through those doors, there's no going back to your old life."

Lacey's hand slides to the back of my neck, pulling me closer until our foreheads touch. The scent of lavender and citrus and something uniquely her fills my senses.

"I've never been more sure of anything." She leans into my touch, her hand coming up to cover mine.

The raw honesty in her voice breaks something loose in my chest. Before I can stop myself, I pull her closer and capture her lips with mine. She responds instantly, her fingers threading through my hair as she deepens the kiss.

It's different from every kiss we've shared before. There's no pretense now, no calculated moves in a dangerous game. Just raw honesty and shared grief transforming into something else.

Something that terrifies me.

Her lips are soft against mine, yet I can't stop tasting of salt from her tears.

My heart thunders against my ribs as an unfamiliar warmth spreads through me. She responds with equal fervor, pressing closer until I can feel her heartbeat racing in time with mine.

I can't tell anymore where I end and she begins.

The sensation scares me more than any bullet or blade ever has. I've spent years building walls around myself, keeping everyone at arm's length. Yet somehow this woman has broken down every defense.

---