Page 88 of Beautiful Cruelty

He presses a final, lingering kiss to my inner thigh before looking up at me, his storm-gray eyes dark with desire.

In that moment, I'm thankful that I'm still panting and breathless from the orgasm he left me with. I'm thankful that I can't bring a single coherent word to my lips.

Because if I can, there are only three words I want to say.

And those are the three most dangerous words I can say to him.

25

LACEY

FIVE DAYS LATER

I followLenka through the winding hallways of Pankration, my heart racing with each step. When we reach Vadim's office, she opens the door and announces my presence before leaving us alone.

Vadim stands behind his massive mahogany desk, backlit by floor-to-ceiling windows. "Come here,zvyozdochka."

My pulse quickens at the endearment as I approach. He reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out something that catches the light.

My breath catches. "That's impossible..."

In his hands dangles Mom’s necklace—the delicate three-stone diamond pendant on its fine white gold chain. The same one Freddy pawned months ago.

"How did you..." My voice cracks as I reach out to touch it with trembling fingers. The familiar weight and sparkle bring tears to my eyes.

"I told you I'd get it back for you." Vadim moves behind me, his breath warm against my neck as he fastens the clasp. "When I make you a promise, I keep it."

"But how? The pawn shop said they'd already sold it." The center diamond catches the light exactly how I remember, creating tiny rainbows that dance across Vadim's desk.

"Let's just say I can be very persuasive when properly motivated." His fingers brush against my skin as he adjusts the chain.

He lifts the delicate necklace from my hand. "May I?"

I nod, turning away from him. My hair falls to the side, exposing the curve of my neck. I should feel vulnerable. But I don't.

I feel safe.

His fingers brush against my skin as he works the clasp, and I can't help shiver at the warmth of his touch. When it finally clicks into place, his hands linger on my shoulders.

"Look," he whispers, turning me toward the mirror.

The diamonds catch the light, transforming into a constellation of stars against my skin.

I reach up to touch the delicate chain, remembering how it used to rest on Mom's neck.

The diamonds may not be as impressive as what a pakhan's wife is expected to wear, but they are far more precious.

"Vadim, I have a request to make."

"Yes,zvyozdochka?"

"I want to wear this to the wedding. I want to have a piece of my mom with me. For luck.”

His eyes soften as he studies my face. Slowly, his expression shifts from stern to understanding.

“Of course,” he says, his voice gentle in a way that makes my chest ache.

"Thank you," I whisper.

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