Page 126 of Beautiful Cruelty

This has become our new normal—me working through Irina's final collection during daylight hours while he wages his war against Kirsan. And finding release with each other when darkness falls.

Or sometimes, like today, whenever the tension becomes too much to bear.

But underneath this veneer of routine, something feels...off.

Like the calm before a storm. The hair on the back of my neck stands up at odd moments, and I catch myself holding my breath, waiting for a non-existent hammer to fall.

I pick up my pencil again, tracing over a copy to one of Irina's dress designs, my heart clenching as I do so.

She had such vision, such talent. The way she could make fabric flow like water, and the way she understood how to accentuate without revealing. I have to get this right, have to honor her legacy.

But before I can return to my work, my phone rings.

Megan's name flashes across the screen. My heart skips—I haven't spoken to her since Vadim took me. Before everything changed. I stare at her name as my phone keeps ringing, guilt twisting in my stomach.

I can't ignore her forever.

Taking a deep breath, I answer.

"Meg?"

"Where the hell have you been?" Her voice cracks.

"Things have been..." I trail off, not sure how to explain everything that's happened.

"Lacey, something happened. It's Nathan."

My heart stutters.

"Nathan? What about him?"

"The police came to Dad's house this morning, looking for you. Apparently, they found Nathan's body a week ago. Washed up near Alki Beach."

The pencil slips from my fingers, clattering against the desk. "What?"

"I'd rather not talk about this over the phone, and I don't have all the details. But from what they told me, they put the time of death to around three weeks ago."

My hands start trembling. Three weeks. Right around when I caught him with Caroline.

When Vadim found me in his apartment.

The same Vadim who told me that Nathan worked for Kirsan when I asked him what the hell he was doing in Nathan's apartment.

Three weeks ago.

"Lacey? Are you still there?"

"Yeah," I whisper, gripping the edge of the desk. "I'm here."

"We need to talk. In person. Can you meet me?"

I look down at the sketches scattered across my desk, then at the door where Vadim disappeared minutes ago. The room starts spinning. I press my hand against my mouth, bile rising in my throat.

"Lacey?"

"Where?" My voice sounds hollow even to my own ears.

"Three Birds," she replies quickly. "How soon can you be here?"

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