Page 123 of Beautiful Agony

But I need to see this.

I need to hear him one more time.

With a shaking breath, I press play and Vadim's familiar voice fills my hospital room.

"My mother was sixteen when Kirsan brought her to my father," he says, his eyes haunted but determined. "She was promised amodeling career, a chance to escape poverty. Instead, she found herself trapped in the hands of a monster."

Slowly and painfully, he describes how Polina suffered, how Pyotr kept her prisoner for months. His voice remains steady but I can see the pain etched in every line of his face as he reveals these dark truths.

"I was the product of her imprisonment," he continues. "When I learned the truth at fourteen, I swore I would spend my life undoing what my father and Kirsan had built. Every woman we save through Svoboda is one less victim forced to suffer in that darkness, and one less child born from that suffering."

Fresh tears blur my vision. I reach out to touch his face on the screen, remembering how his skin felt under my fingertips. The way his eyes would soften when he looked at me. How gentle his hands were when he touched my growing belly.

Please…

"The fashion industry has long looked the other way while monsters like Kirsan hide in plain sight," Vadim's voice continues. "But we can change that. Wemustchange that."

A sob catches in my throat. This was recorded just days ago, before everything went wrong. Before Kirsan's knife found him. Now Vadim lies somewhere in this hospital, fighting for his life, and I don't even know if he'll ever speak those words to me ever again.

My fingers trace his face on the screen as he continues laying bare the ugly truth of human trafficking. Even now, wounded and possibly dying, he's still fighting. Still working to save others through this interview.

"I couldn't save my mother from what happened to her," he says softly. "But I can save others."

"What led you to this point?" Megan asks from off-camera. "To agree to do this interview and let the world know—both about what you do and about the darkness behind the fashion industry at large?"

My heart catches as Vadim's expression softens, a gentle smile playing at his lips.

"My wife, Lacey," he says, his voice filled with warmth. "She showed me what true strength looks like. The day I met her, she was fighting for a dry cleaner's that wasn't even hers to fight for. Eleven hours after her engagement ended, there she was, defending someone not for any other reason than the fact that it was the right thing to do."

His gray eyes shine with emotion. "She fought when she knew she couldn't win. Even now, pregnant with our child, she continues to fight for what's right."

Fresh tears blur my vision as he continues.

"And when I found out that she was pregnant…" He smiles and wipes at his eyes. "It's made me realize how much more work there is still to do. She's the one who made me realize that rescuing victims is only one part of a much bigger fight. That rescue means nothing if we don't give everyone still trapped in the system hope that the system itself will be destroyed. That's why I agreed to do this interview. Because I want our daughter to grow up in a world where she never has to fear. Where no child has to suffer like I did, like my mother did."

"Is there anything you'd like to say to Lacey if she's watching this?" Megan asks softly.

Vadim turns to look directly into the camera, and my breath catches. It feels like he's right here with me, those storm-gray eyes piercing straight into my soul.

"Zvyozdochka," he says tenderly, "I love you more than life itself. I love the way you jut your chin out when you argue with me. I love the way you chew your lips when you think. And I even love it when you hum those corny old songs when you think no-one is looking. I love waking up every day next to you. And when this is all over, I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you raising our daughter together until my last breath. Whether I’m cooking for you or pampering you like the queen you are. I promise you, my little star, that I will create a world worthy of the light you bring into it."

I touch the screen again, tears falling freely now.

"Please," I whisper to whatever god might be listening. "Please don't take him from me."

Not when we're so close to that future he promised.

39

VADIM

Everything hurts.I drift in and out of consciousness, each breath a struggle. Voices float around me, meaningless syllables that blend together like static. My first instinct is to reach for my gun but my arms won't obey. I can't even feel them.

Where am I? The memories slip through my grasp like water. Fragments of images flash—the catwalk, Kirsan's cold smile, the glint of a blade. The searing pain as metal pierced flesh. Over and over.

Lacey. Her face on the runway, that flash of recognition and fear when she saw Kirsan beside me. I try to call out but my throat is raw. I need to protect her. Need to get to her. But the darkness keeps pulling me under.

More voices, urgent now. The sharp scent of antiseptic burns my nostrils. Someone touches my arm and I instinctively try to fight but my body won't respond. Panic rises in my chest—I'm completely helpless.

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