Page 2 of Beautiful Agony

My heart pounds against my ribs as I search every corner of the second floor. Where could she have gone? When did she leave? Why didn't anyone see her?

"Vadim Petrovich," Lenka's voice cuts through my panic. She stands in the doorway of the drawing room, concern etched on her weathered features. "What's wrong?"

"Have you seen Lacey?" The words come out rougher than intended. "When was the last time you saw her?"

"Not since this morning. I thought she was resting in your room?"

"She's gone." My hands clench into fists, reopening the bite marks she left. "Get everyone looking for her. Now. Search every room, every closet, every corner of this fucking house."

Lenka's eyes widen at my tone but she nods, already turning to mobilize the staff.

I lean against the wall, mind racing.Think.How long has she been missing? Who saw her last? Did anyone notice anything unusual?

The answers elude me as the sound of doors opening and closing echoes through Pankration, accompanied by voices calling Lacey's name.

I slam the door to my office and boot up the security system, hands still trembling from Sayanaa's call. The monitors flicker to life, bathing my face in the cold glow as I start scanning through exterior camera feeds.

Nothing. Nothing.Nothing.

My jaw clenches tight enough to hurt. How the fuck did Sayanaa get to her? The mansion is a fortress. There are cameras covering every angle, and guards at every entrance. No one gets in or out without being seen.

Unless...

The thought hits me like ice water in my veins.

Someone must've snuck her out from the inside.

I rewind the footage, scanning backwards through the morning hours until movement catches my eye. There! Lacey walking towards the conservatory about an hour ago, right around the same time as my meeting with Megan in Monroe.

But something about her gait seems off, almost hesitant.

Rewinding further, my unease grows as I spot another figure heading the same direction. Olga. Her silver-streaked hair and ramrod straight posture are unmistakable, even from this angle. The rings on her fingers catch the light as she moves with that cold grace she's perfected over the decades.

I look at the timestamp.

She entered the conservatory an hour before Lacey.

What the fuck were you doing, Olga?

I get up from my chair and walk towards the conservatory.

When I arrive, I find the door is slightly ajar.

Pushing it open, I'm hit by the musty smell of earth and aging flowers. A streak of lightning tears across the sky, and briefly lights up the glass ceiling, casting long shadows across forgotten plants.

My eyes find the back door's handle. It turns without resistance.

Unlocked.

The door creaks open to reveal an overgrown pathway winding through dense foliage. Branches hang low enough to obscure any view from the main house. The path curves away from Pankration's walls before connecting to the service road that leads to the highway.

This spot sits in a perfect blind spot between our security cameras.

The thick vegetation blocks sight lines from the guard towers. The curve of the path keeps it hidden from the road cameras.

This is the same path Mom took when Olga helped her escape, all those years ago. It has to be.

And Lacey…

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