Page 104 of Beautiful Agony

And we'll protect her together.

32

VADIM

I watchLacey make one final change to the runway schedule, her brow furrowed in concentration.

She's made herself at home in my office, papers scattered across my desk detailing everything from the L.A. Fashion Week events to our safehouses throughout the city.

"These twelve locations." I tap the map. "Will be converted to safe houses. Each can house up to a hundred people comfortably while we arrange transport back to their homes."

"What about the buyers?" Lacey looks up at me, her amber-flecked eyes holding that familiar determination I've come to cherish.

I slide over a thick folder.

"Mostly politicians. The kind who thinks their position puts them above the law." My jaw clenches. "They'll learn soon enough."

"And Kirsan?" Her voice catches slightly on his name. "Will he be there?"

"He will." I move behind her chair, resting my hands on her shoulders. She leans back into my touch. "He likes to personally talk to potential buyers about his 'merchandise.' Which means he'll be at the main runway shows, pointing out which models are for sale."

"Using the runway as a catalog." Lacey's shoulders tense under my fingers. "It's sick."

"It is." I massage the tension from her muscles. "But it makes him predictable. We know exactly where he'll be and when."

"How many potential buyers are we looking at?"

"Forty-three confirmed so far. Senators, judges, and CEOs." I reach past her to spread out their photos. "Every one of them untouchable."

"Until now." There's steel in her voice that makes my heart swell with pride.

"Until now," I agree, letting my hands slide from her shoulders. "These men have operated without consequence for far too long."

I move to perch on the edge of my desk, studying Lacey's neat handwriting on the runway layouts.

"Have you thought about who will walk for Eleftheria?"

"I have." Lacey's voice holds that quiet determination that both thrills and terrifies me.

"Who?"

"Me."

"Absolutely not." The words come out harsher than intended. "You're carrying our child. I won't put either of you at risk. Especially since weknowKirsan will be there."

"But it has to be me." She stands, one hand unconsciously moving to her slightly rounded belly. "Think about it, Vadim. You killed his daughter. He needs to see someone that will make him react with emotion rather than logic."

My jaw clenches. "But?—"

"Who else can get that reaction from him?" She steps closer, taking my hands in hers. "Sayanaa is dead. I'm the only one who can make him lose control."

"Zvyozdochka..." I start to protest, but she presses a finger to my lips.

"You know I'm right. We need him emotional, irrational. What better way than having your pregnant wife—the woman his daughter failed to break—walking that runway?"

I close my eyes, hating that her logic is sound. The thought of her anywhere near Kirsan makes my blood run cold, but she's right. Nothing else would provoke such a visceral response from him.

"We could ask any of the women we rescued," I suggest, knowing it's a weak argument even as I make it. "Taliya has already proven?—"

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