Page 120 of Beautiful Cruelty

I break the kiss, resting my forehead against hers as we both catch our breath. The realization hits me like a physical blow.

I don't just want her body or her skills.

I wanther.

All of her.

I don't want to let her go. Not tomorrow, not ever. The thought of her walking away now feels like someone reaching into my chest and trying to tear out my own heart.

This wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to become more than a means to an end. I wasn't supposed to feel this crushing need to protect her, to keep her close.

But I do.

Because she's mine.

35

LACEY

My legs feellike lead as we climb the grand staircase of Pankration. Every step brings fresh memories of Irina flooding back—her smile, her kindness, the way she worked the needle through fabric with such care. The weight of the necklace at my throat feels heavier than ever.

Vadim's hand rests at the small of my back, steadying me as we reach the landing. He turns toward the blue suite, but I catch his wrist.

"No." My voice comes out hoarse. "I want to be with you."

"Lacey..." His gray eyes cloud with conflict. "The marriage was just for show. You don't have to?—”

"We're married now." The words catch in my throat but I force them out. "Real or fake, I'm not sleeping alone tonight. Not after..." The image of Irina's body flashes through my mind and I squeeze my eyes shut.

When I open them again, Vadim is studying my face with an intensity that makes my heart stutter. His thumb brushes across my cheek, wiping away tears I didn't realize had fallen.

"This isn't what you signed up for," he says softly.

A bitter laugh escapes me. "None of this is what I signed up for. But here we are."

His jaw clenches as he wars with himself. I can see the moment his resolve crumbles—the slight softening around his eyes, and the way his shoulders drop just a fraction.

"Here we are," he echoes, and there's something raw in his voice that makes me shiver.

We both know this stopped being fake somewhere between the jewelry store and the cathedral. Maybe it was never fake at all. The realization should terrify me, but after everything that's happened today, it feels like the only real thing I have left to hold onto.

My legs feel shaky as I accompany Vadim into his bedroom. Moonlight streams through tall windows, casting long shadows across a space that feels both elegant and austere. Like him. A massive four-poster bed dominates one wall, dark sheets pulled tight with military precision.

My heart pounds as I turn to face him. His eyes are stormy with barely contained emotion that matches the tempest in my own chest. Without thinking, I rise up on my toes and press my lips to his. He responds instantly, one hand tangling in my hair while the other pulls me flush against him.

The kiss deepens, desperate and hungry. I pour everything I'm feeling into it—the grief, the fear, the overwhelming need to feelconnected to something real. His tongue sweeps into my mouth and I moan, clinging to his shoulders.

We stumble toward the bed, shedding clothes along the way. The back of my knees hit the mattress and I fall backward, pulling him with me. The weight of his body pressing me into the sheets anchors me to this moment.

"Please," I whisper against his mouth. "Make me feel something. Anything but this emptiness."

His hand cups my face, thumb stroking my cheek as he studies me with those intense gray eyes. For a moment, I see my own pain reflected there, raw and vulnerable.

His lips trail down my neck, my collarbone, leaving a path of fire in their wake. When he reaches my breasts, I arch into him, my fingers tangling in his hair. But he doesn’t stop there. His mouth moves lower, over my stomach, until he’s kneeling between my legs. My breath hitches as he spreads me open, his gaze dark and possessive.

I should feel exposed, vulnerable, but instead, I feelseen. For the first time, I’m not hiding behind a mask.

I’m just me, raw and unfiltered, and he’s looking at me like I’m everything he’s ever wanted.

---