Page 128 of Beautiful Agony

His eyebrows lift slightly. "No last-minute deals? No thinly veiled threats?"

"No need."

"I'll be frank with you." Rutledge leans back, folding his hands across his desk. "For the city's sake, I hope your wife can convince Ms. Riley to drop her accusation."

"She will." The certainty in my voice seems to surprise him. "I'm sure of it."

I see the questions forming behind his eyes, but I've already said all I need to say.

Myzvyozdochkahas never failed me before.

She won't start now.

41

LACEY

I fidgetwith my wedding ring while waiting for Caroline at the coffee shop near Nathan's old office. My belly feels like it's filled with lead rather than my daughter. Every time the door chimes, my heart skips.

I still remember walking into Nathan's office after hours, hoping to surprise him only to find Caroline's legs wrapped around his waist, her red lipstick smeared across his neck.

I still remember the way shesmirkedat me as I yelled at them both.

Now my husband's freedom depends on her.

The same woman who helped destroy my engagement.

The irony isn't lost on me.

The door chimes again. Caroline walks in, perfectly put together in a modest white blouse and pencil skirt. Her head is raised high as she approaches. Her mouth is drawn in a line, but at this angle, it looks like a condescending little smile.

"Lacey." She slides into the seat across from me. Her eyes drift to my swollen belly before meeting mine. "I know exactly what you're doing here."

My fingers tighten around my cup. I take a steadying breath, recalling Vadim's words: I'm a Stravinsky now. I'll either find a way or make one.

"And what exactly." I fight to keep my voice neutral. "Am I doing, Caroline?"

"You're trying to get me to retract my accusation about your criminal husband murdering Nathan."

My heart pounds against my ribs. The raw hatred in her voice catches me off guard. I expected anger, even bitterness. But this? There's real pain in her voice.

"I know there's no love between us," I say carefully. "But I want to clear the air."

"Clear the air?" She laughs, high and brittle. "Nathan was the love of my life. And yourhusbandmurdered him."

The conviction in her voice sends a chill down my spine. I recognize that look in her eyes—the same desperation that I once felt. That terrifying certainty that can only take shape when grief twists into a desire for vengeance.

"You think Nathan loved you?" The words slip out before I can stop them.

"He did." Her voice cracks. "Everything we did—the late nights, the business trips—it wasn't just sex. We were building a future together."

Then, as if she wants to twist the knife, she adds. "For months."

Months.

The word slices through me like a knife. Even after everything—finding my true love in Vadim, carrying our daughter, building a life together—that single word still has the power to hurt me.

My hands unconsciously drift to my belly, seeking comfort from Larina's familiar kicks.

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