Page 36 of Beautiful Cruelty

I step inside, but uncertainty roots me in place. The luxury surrounding me like a slap in the face. Everything screams wealth and power—from the hand-carved mahogany furniture to the silk sheets. Even the carpet looks impossibly plush.

"Why does Vadim need so many..." I wave my hand, gesturing in the general direction of the rough men standing outside. "People like them?"

Lenka's kind eyes sharpen with something that might be warning. "It's best not to ask too many questions, dear."

"That's not an answer." My voice comes out stronger than I feel. "What is he hiding from me?"

"Some things, once learned, cannot be unlearned." Lenka's voice carries the weight of experience. “Vadim Petrovich has not yet informed me what I may share with you. For that reason, I cannot answer your questions."

I let out a laugh that sounds hollow even to my own ears. "The way you talk about him makes him sound like some kind of mafia boss instead of a fashion executive."

The silence that follows my comment stretches too long. Lenka's face remains carefully neutral, but her lack of response has given me the answer I needed.

Oh fuck…

My mind starts racing, connecting dots I hadn't connected before.

Suddenly, I'm having a hard time drawing another breath.

"Oh God." My legs go weak and I sink onto the edge of the bed. The blue silk comforter rustles beneath me as pieces click into place. "That's exactly what he is, isn't it?"

Lenka's weathered features soften with something like sympathy, but she doesn't deny it. She doesn't need to. Her silence has told me everything.

"I need to leave." My voice cracks as I scramble up from the bed. "You can't keep me here."

Lenka's face remains gentle but unmovable. "I'm afraid that's not possible. Once Vadim Petrovich brings someone to Pankration, they may only leave with his permission."

"Brought me? He kidnapped me!" I stride toward the door, but Lenka shifts to block my path. Despite her age, she moves with surprising quickness and strength. "Please, can't you understand?"

"I understand that this is overwhelming." Her tone carries maternal concern that makes my chest ache. "But fighting will only make things more difficult. I'll return shortly."

"You'll return shortly? To do what?"

But Lenka is already stepping back, pulling the heavy door closed. I lunge forward but hear the unmistakable click of a lock engaging. I fumble at the doorknob, and find a keyhole instead of a lock.

What the actual fuck?

Who the fuck has a door that needs a key to unlock it fromthe inside?

A mafia boss, Lacey, that's who.I remind myself.

"Please!" I pound my fist against the wood. "You can't leave me in here!"

Only silence answers. I press my ear to the door, straining to hear her footsteps retreating down the hall. My heart hammers against my ribs as the reality of my situation crashes over me.

I'm trapped in a room that can only be unlocked from the outside, in a mansion full of killers in suits, and the only person who seems remotely sympathetic just walked away.

The room suddenly feels too small despite its immense size, and the air too thin. I slide down the door until I'm sitting on the floor, drawing my knees to my chest as I try to slow my frantic breathing.

And just then, I remember something else.

The photo.

Oh God, thephotoI sent him. A strangled laugh bubbles up my throat. I sent amafia bossa naked picture of myself wearinghisstolen suit.

My fingers dig into my hair, tugging at the roots. "Stupid, stupid,stupid."

It's incredible just how thoroughly I've fucked up. I flirted with him. Danced with him. Let myself feelattractedto him. And now I'm locked in his mansion, being forced to marry him.

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