Page 24 of Beautiful Agony

My hands tighten around Lacey's.

Whatever Polina's reaction might be, I owe her this truth. And maybe, just maybe, this news might help heal some of the wounds that have festered between us for so long.

"Will you come with me?" I ask.

"Of course." Her thumbs trace patterns on my palm. "I'll be right beside you the whole time."

The gratitude I feel for her in this moment is overwhelming. This woman who started as a means to an end has become my anchor, my light, my everything. She's carrying my child, yet still finds the strength to help me face my demons.

My free hand cups her cheek, thumb stroking the soft skin there. "What did I do to deserve you,zvyozdochka?"

"You didn't have to do anything," she whispers. "You just had to be you."

The simple truth in her words steals my breath. All my life, I've had to earn every scrap of affection, prove my worth through action and achievement. But here she is, offering her love freely, unconditionally.

I lean in closer, drawn to her like a moth to flame. Her amber-flecked eyes hold mine, full of understanding and something deeper that makes my heart race. The distance between us feels charged with possibility.

"Zvyozdochka," I breathe against her lips.

The endearment feels right again, natural, where before it had felt tainted by guilt.

She shifts, pressing closer, and I feel her smile against my mouth as we deepen our kiss.

I can taste the salt of our mingled tears, and feel the rapid flutter of her pulse beneath my fingertips. Every brush of her lips carries forgiveness, acceptance, love. Things I never thought I deserved but she gives freely.

Whether the tears are hers or mine, I'm not sure. Maybe both. But they aren't tears of pain or guilt this time. They're washing away the darkness that's kept us apart, dissolving another layer of that wall brick by brick.

Her hands frame my face as she pulls back just enough to look into my eyes. The amber flecks in hers seem to glow with an inner light. There's no fear there anymore, no hesitation. Just trust and something deeper that makes my heart clench.

"I've missed you," she whispers. "I've missed this."

"Me too,zvyozdochka," I say as I claim her lips again.

And this time, it feels like coming home.

8

LACEY

THE NEXT DAY

I can feelVadim's tension as we pull up to the modest house. His knuckles are white on the steering wheel, and I notice his breathing has grown shallow. Without thinking, I reach over and place my hand on his thigh.

"She's your mother," I whisper. "And I'll be right here beside you."

Vadim's hand covers mine, and I feel a slight tremor in his fingers. For someone who commands such power and authority, seeing him this vulnerable makes my heart ache.

"Zvyozdochka," he says, his voice barely audible. "What if she?—"

"I'll be right here beside you," I tell him, squeezing his hand. "Just like everything else."

We make our way up the stone path to the front door. The garden is well-tended, with bright splashes of wildflowers adding cheerful color. It's hard to imagine this peaceful place housing such painful memories.

Vadim's knock seems to echo in the still afternoon air. I slip my hand into his, our fingers intertwining. For a moment, we both hold our breath.

The door swings open to reveal a large man with a neatly trimmed white beard. Despite his imposing size, his green eyes crinkle warmly at the corners. He has the easy stance of someone comfortable in their own skin.

"Can I help you?" he asks, his voice carries a hint of gravel.

---